Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Men Tell Tales
by LittleVampirateXX
Summary: Leaving a fragile and broken Jack with a vulnerable infant, Isabelle Norrington wakes up in the land of the Dead, with her dead child by her side. She learns that to get back to her family she must fight her way through the ghosts of her past... literally. But what secrets will she uncover and is she strong enough to overcome them before it's too late? 5th in the series. JackxOC
1. Drifting

I was floating.

Drifting…

Drifting deep beneath the surface of… something. I didn't know what. At first it didn't bother me that I had no idea where I was. I liked where I was. It was dark and peaceful. It was also really, really quiet. That was the first thing that struck me as odd about wherever I was, just how very silent it was. Usually when we say the word 'silent' we don't really mean silent. There is always some sort of noise around us whether it's breathing, the tick of a clock, wind outside a window or the sound of your own heartbeat… there is always something. But here, there was nothing. Every sound that should have been there was not merely deadened, but wiped out completely. Had I gone deaf? Had I always been deaf? Questions like that stirred an odd feeling in my mind… perhaps it was panic? The more I thought about it, the more certain I became that I couldn't have always been deaf, otherwise I wouldn't have noticed these sounds were missing because I wouldn't have been able to hear them in the first place.

And _why _was it so dark?

Surely, I should have been able to see something. Just like it is never truly silent it is never truly dark. Gaps in curtains let in sunlight or even light from the moon and stars outside. You were only really in the dark with your eyes shut, but even then there is still something there. Strange colours behind your eyelids. I couldn't even see them. Perhaps someone had covered me with something very dark and thick. Something that could stop everything; light, sound, smell from getting to me. Although, whatever I had been wrapped in was apparently weightless. I felt like I was floating. Strangest of all was how disorientated I was. I couldn't tell which way was up and which was down. I wasn't even confident of what 'up' and 'down' were.

I had sort of assumed that I should have some kind of body, but I couldn't feel one. I couldn't remember what it was like to have one at all. Maybe I didn't have one. Maybe I never had. Did it matter? Probably not. I was comfortable here. I wasn't happy, but I wasn't sad either. I just sort of… _was. _I came to the conclusion that I was in a state of existing, not really living. What is living anyway? It seemed to be a new word and yet it was oddly familiar.

It didn't bother me that there was nothing to see.

It didn't bother me that there was nothing to hear.

It didn't bother me that I didn't know where I was.

What bothered me was that I didn't know _who _I was.

For it to bother me that I didn't know meant that I must have known who I was at some point. And now that the issue had been raised it was beginning to annoy me. Surely, I had to be someone… Maybe I had been someone once but wasn't anymore. Or maybe I hadn't been anyone yet and I was about to be. Or maybe it didn't matter. I had no concept of a past or a future, just the calm and peaceful moment that I was in. Aside from the slight annoyance caused by my awareness that I had no idea who I was I really was almost completely at peace.

I wanted to feel as calm as I had just before this moment where I had become conscious and aware. If only I could just drift off again… slip away to where there was nothing.

Maybe it was time to let go.

I let my annoyances slide away from me and drowsiness began to wash over me. There. Time to go.

_Jack._

What? I was pulled away from the edge of the abyss by a single word. A word which felt heavy although I could not find its meaning. A word of such importance that I was scared to let it go. '_Jack…' _I tested the word out. It was a happy word, a complicated word, but above all it was a word that woke me up. I felt the power of that word jolt me back in to a higher state of consciousness. From that single jolt the feeling coursed through me like a heat. I could feel it flowing through each vein and suddenly I was warm. It was a shock.

My eyes opened.

I was completely underwater. A very faint watery light filtered down from above and bathed my surroundings. I was so, so far from the surface. I wasn't alone. I could see other bodies floating in the waters all around me. Some of them were just dark shapes in the waters above me and nearer to the surface. I looked to my left. There was a man floating alongside me. His eyes were shut and he was completely unmoving. He looked peaceful and happy, but it was chilling to see someone in that state. I didn't know him. At least, I didn't think I did. I was much more conscious and aware of my own physicality, but I still held no memories. The only thing I had to hold on to that was of any substance was that one word. That one word that seemed to be the most important thing I had right now.

Jack.

It refused to leave my mind, it wouldn't leave me alone but in a way I was glad of it. It was the one thing that was keeping me from fighting the wave of tiredness that was threatening to pull me back to wherever it was that I had been. It was probably the same place that the man beside me and everyone floating around me was in. They looked happy, but I was so sure that I didn't want to go back there. Everything in that place was so uncertain. What if I went there and never came back? I was gripped with fear. Jack. I clung to that word to keep me routed where I was.

Another wave of drowsiness hit me, stronger than the last. I wasn't going to be able to fight it for much longer. I looked to my right and what I saw gave me enough shock and adrenaline to fight to stay awake for another few minutes. A baby was floating beside me.

_Mine._

I knew at once she was mine. Everything inside me indicated towards her. There was a deep pull within me that lead me straight to her. She was mine. I didn't know who I was, but I knew that this was my little girl. I reached out over the distance between her and gently pulled her through the water towards me. I clutched her to me.

_It's okay, _I told her silently. _I'm here now. _

The next wave that hit me was too strong to fight and I slipped away in to the endless darkness all over again.


	2. An Unknown City

Where was I?

I was surrounded by things. Because of the previously empty and bleak nature of my last surroundings, the only ones I could actually remember and therefore my only point of reference, it all came as quite a shock. My only memories were of being in a place that was void of anything bar water and people I felt as if it was the first time that I had seen anything, but somehow I knew the names of everything I was seeing. It was as if I had seen them all before, but where? I didn't know. I still had no memory of who I was, had been or should be. All I had was the tiny baby girl I held in my arms and the knowledge that she was absolutely and completely _mine_. I looked down at her. Did she have a name?

_Rebecca._

It seemed so obvious now.

"Hello," I smiled down at her. She looked back at me, peaceful and happy, looking as if she would have said hello back… if she could have. I held her tight. "It's okay, darling. I'll keep you safe."

Her eyes were so trusting and contented with where she was. I was thankful that she was not fazed by the oddness of our surroundings. Her calm energy eased my worry, but I was still very nervous. The buildings around us did not look at all stable. They were old and crumbling. Many windows were completely empty, rags hung in a few as a crude attempt at fashioning curtains. Deep cracks ran through the brickwork of the buildings and they looked as if they might collapse any second. The street I was standing in was empty, but the City was full of noise. I could hear explosions and shouts. An unmistakable sound of warfare. I stayed where I was for a moment, panicking. What was I supposed to do now that I was here? Why was I here?

A shout from behind me told me that I had to get moving and find somewhere safe. I could tell that the battle sounds I was hearing were not all focused in the one area. Clearly the entire City had descended into chaos. What had happened? I began a hurried walk away from the nearest sounds, keeping to the side of the street in order to be as inconspicuous as humanly possible.

I moved quickly and quietly, clutching Rebecca closer to my chest. I needed to keep her safe. There had to be someone in this City who could help us. There had to be somewhere safe that we could go. I would just explain that I had lost my memories and didn't know where to go. Maybe someone would know me and be able to tell me who I was and why I was here. At the end of the street I turned left. The buildings were getting larger and had an air of vanishing grandeur. I could tell that these had once been architecturally beautiful places, but most of it was on its way to ruin. I heard footsteps behind me and shrank back in to the shadows of a tall building. I needn't have worried though, it was only a child. I almost stepped back out to speak to him and check that he was alright, but then I saw that he was armed with heavy weaponry and I stayed put. I immediately felt incredibly uneasy. That wasn't right… surely? He ran straight past me, not glancing my way once. I relaxed. Maybe he was heading somewhere safe… Surely, parents would be sending their children to a safe place. The streets were dangerous. Without giving it much extra thought I silently followed him through the streets until he paused at the top of a hill. There was a giant, grand building at the bottom of it. The biggest out of any I'd seen, but by no means any less run down than the rest of the City.

The boy glanced around, he didn't seem to see me.

A gun shot from behind us made us both jump. We ran as fast as we could away from the source of the sound and towards the cracked doors of the building at the bottom of the hill. The boy fired a few shots behind him as he ran. I looked back. A line of men in bright red coats were charging towards us with their guns raised. The boy got to the door before I did. He knocked hurriedly and it creaked open almost at once. The two of us darted inside. Shots pinged off the door as it slammed shut behind us. The man who opened the door walked quickly away with the boy, leaving me standing in a vast room. Tall pillars stretched from the cracked marble floor to the high ceiling above, but, just like everything else here, they were not in good condition. Some of them has disintegrated completely. Colours had faded from the mosaic around the walls and I was left wonder whether this clearly once great and noble City had fallen in to this state gradually or if it was a result of the fighting outside. How long had this battle been raging on?

Something bright caught my eye. A magnificent golden fountain stood in the middle of the room. It looked odd in this run-down City.

The room was full of people, but they were all clustered together in the middle. I wasn't sure whether to approach them or not. I felt like I would be intruding. I didn't know them and I doubted they would know me. _I_ didn't even know me. I walked over slowly, not wanting to draw attention to myself, but at the same time wishing that someone would notice me. A hush had fallen over the room. Everyone appeared so sombre. Somewhere to my right a baby started to cry. Rebecca stirred in my arms. For the first time there was a small frown on her beautiful face. A girl, no younger than six or seven carried a new-born baby away from the cluster of people in the middle of the room. It was only when the other baby was out of the room that Rebecca settled down again. Someone else was crying too. I couldn't work out who it was, but I immediately felt an ache of sympathy for them.

"I'm sorry, Jack," a man spoke, his voice was hoarse. _Jack? I knew that name._ I looked at the man who had spoken. There were tears in his eyes and his old, weather-beaten face was riddled with sorrow and sympathy. I grew concerned over the intimacy of the moment I had accidentally walked in on. I was glad that nobody had seen me yet. I followed the line of his gaze and the reason for the grief became obvious.

Someone had died.

A pool of blood surrounded her, soaking her clothes. Her body was lifeless and still. Her head rolled back and hung over the arms of a man who was holding her body tightly to him. His face was buried deep in her chest, but his muffled sobs were still painfully audible. He raised his head and his trembling hands moved to support hers. He gazed at her pale, unresponsive face. His fingertips shook as he used them to brush away her hair, which was wet with his tears. His words were uncomprehsible. He pressed his lips to the top of her head and rocked her back and forth. His eyes were squeezed tightly shut, but that didn't stop the tears from spilling out.

Why was nobody helping him?

Everyone was standing there, watching. I walked over to stand on the other side of her body. I knelt down to his level. His lips were still pressed to her forehead and his face was crumpled with sorrow. I took a deep breath, I didn't want to interrupt such a private moment, but I didn't think that it was going to help him to stay around the body. Someone needed to take him away and tell him it would be alright.

"Hey," I said gently. He did not react. I spoke up. "Hey, it's alright. It'll be alright."

I carefully balanced Rebecca in my lap, being careful to support her head with one had. I reached out to touch his arm with my free hand, but before I could reach him he moved to pull the woman's body closer to his chest. He rested his head on the top of hers.

His eyes opened. Pain was burning in his them and in his soul. He didn't see me although his eyes met mine. The second they did a jolt past through me and I remembered.

I remembered everything.

* * *

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	3. Silent Screams

A broken gasp rose from my lips. "Jack," I whispered.

Silence greeted me. It was broken only by Jack's sobs. Each one broke my heart a little more.

This couldn't be real. It couldn't.

"Jack," I said loudly, my voice cracked. He continued to rock my body in his arms and kissed the top of my head. This was too surreal. It wasn't right… it wasn't real. It couldn't be… This had to be some kind of dream. Some kind of ridiculous nightmare that I couldn't wake up from. "Jack!" I screamed. He didn't react. Why couldn't he see me? Why didn't he know that I was here? "Jack, I'm here." My hand shook as I reached towards him. If I could just reach him, just let him feel that I was here maybe I could wake up. Maybe this dream would end. As my fingertips came within inches of his skin I was stopped by a searing and impenetrable heat. There was no way that I could get near him. No way for me to hold my husband. As I watched him crying tears began to spill out of my eyes and down my cheeks. "Jack! I'm here!" I still tried desperately to wipe away his tears. "Jack, _please. _I'm **right here!**"

He didn't hear me. Nobody did. How could they? My screams were nothing but silence to the ears of the living.

I was dead.

_Dead. _

There was no way I could deny it when I could see my own corpse lying there in front of me. Lying in the arms of my broken husband. I couldn't bear to see him in so much pain. Not when I was the cause of it. And especially not when there was no way that I could comfort him. No way for me to talk to him and let him know that I was here. I just wanted to heal him. All I wanted was for him to be all right.

I was in utter turmoil.

My own pain and frustration tore through me. How could I be _dead? _How could it be that I would never be able to communicate with my husband again? And my son… my poor baby boy. How would he ever know how much his mother loves him? Whatever was left of me… my spirit, my soul… whatever I was now… was being ripped apart by grief. How could I carry on like this? No matter how loudly I cried and begged and _screamed… pleading _for him to hear me… he was oblivious to me kneeling before him. He was wrapped in his own grief and clinging to the empty shell that had once been me.

What was I to do?

What I was meant to do, I suppose. What I had promised to do… stay by Jack's side. He was my everything. I couldn't just let him go. We were to inextricably linked. Maybe I was here for a reason. Maybe I'd been given this chance to watch over Jack and our living baby, to protect them to the best of my abilities. Even though I didn't seem to be able to communicate with anyone in the living world and being confined to just watching would be almost unbearable. But not as unbearable as leaving him.

Rebecca was my only comfort. I pulled her towards me and clutched her tightly in my arms. At least I had one little piece of Jack to hold with me in whatever bizarre spiritual plane I was currently dwelling. It began to dawn on me just how still and silent Rebecca had become. I glanced down at her. Her eyes were shut and her face peaceful. It took me a mere second to realise that this was not merely sleep. This was the same look that had been on her face when we had both been floating in the endless sea of the dead. I was immediately worried. How was I to know whether or not this was normal or safe for a baby in this kind of situation?

"Jack," Gibbs stepped forwards. His voice was husky and he was reluctant to even begin speaking. He stood behind Jack and placed a hand on his shoulder. He tried to gently prise my body from Jack and get him to come away with him.

"**No!**" Jack snapped, fiercely. "**NO**!"

"Capt'n…" Gibbs said gently. "It's not good for you to-"

"I'm not leaving her!" He clung to me so tightly that his knuckles turned white. "I can't leave her. She can't be… she… she can't… she's not."

"Let go, Jack," Gibbs tried again. "You need to let go."

"**No!**" the word seemed to rip out of his throat from somewhere deep inside him. He buried his face in my hair again. Everyone around him exchanged a look and fell back into silence. "Get out." Jack muttered. Everyone shared another uncomfortable glance but nobody moved. I was glad. I didn't want Jack left alone. It was just as I was beginning to feel slightly calmer that his head snapped back up to glare at them all. He sprang to his feet. "**OUT. EVERYONE OUT!"**

The people in the room, including myself, jumped at the ferocity of his words. The room quickly emptied. Gibbs was the last to leave Jack's side. "Don't leave him," I whispered despite it being futile. None of them could have heard me, even if I'd shouted it.

Jack fell to his knees again, his hand brushed my cheek. "Why?" he whispered to my unresponsive face. "Why did you have to go?"

His tears fell thick and fast. I stood as close behind him as I physically could. "I'll never be gone," I said quietly even though he would never know that I'd said it.

There was an almighty crash and the door I had come through at the far end of the hall shook on its hinges. I remembered with a dreadful fear who was on the other side of it. In my previous state of confusion I hadn't even recognised him, but now that I was fully aware of who I was, where I had been and who I knew I began to feel ill at the thought. Here was my husband kneeling before me, broken and vulnerable. On the other side of that door were the two men in the whole world who were most desperate to see him dead. One was George. The other was Barbossa.

And there was not a single thing I could do to protect him.

I started to run to the door to see if there was anything I could do that would be of any use. I doubted it, but I would never forgive myself if I didn't try. I only got about halfway across before I began to feel incredibly dizzy. I stopped and swayed on the spot. I felt clogged and drowsy. I looked down at Rebecca and realised what was happening. Not again. "No…" I murmured and turned to look at Jack one last time before that irrepressible darkness swallowed me up.

_Let me stay…_

* * *

My eyes opened. How long had it been? How long had it been since I had seen Jack? It was impossible to tell in the moments during which I had slept -if 'sleeping' was even what it was- how much time I had spent not existing. I knew the moment my eyes opened that I was back in that stagnant, unmoving land of the dead.

"No!" I cried out, my frustration breaking the silence. "No! Take me back!"

I wasn't sure who I was shouting to, but there was no reply and nothing happened. I wasn't sure what I had expected the answer to be. I had hoped that whatever had happened to me before would happen again so that I could go back to where Jack and my son had been left to fend for themselves, but I had known deep down how unlikely that was. I felt like crying or screaming. Or both.

At least I wasn't underwater like I had been last time. At least now I was above the surface. And I still had Rebecca. That was one plus. She was awake again and happy. She seemed more animated in this world than she had been when we had been in the land of the living. We were now in a boat floating on the surface of a calm and still ocean. Lights came from lanterns that hung from the front of every boat. We weren't the only ones here. There were dead people in boats all around us, but I seemed to be the only one who was actually aware of where we were and the fact that we were dead. I wasn't surprised. I had been here before. On the way back from rescuing Jack from the Locker we had sailed right through here and seen Governor Swann. It felt like a lifetime ago.

I supposed it was a lifetime… technically.

I thought back to that day. Will had asked Tia if there was any way to bring the Governor back. She had said no. Did that mean there was no way for me to go back? Maybe those few minutes I had spent with Jack had been it. Maybe that was the only time that you got to see your loved ones and say your goodbyes. Maybe I would never see him or my son again. I almost started crying again and looked around for something… anything that would help me. Nobody in any of the boats around me so much as blinked. I stopped wondering why they weren't panicking and terrified like me and began to wonder why I wasn't peaceful and oblivious like them. Why couldn't I rest?

I wasn't at peace… how could I be, knowing everything that I had left behind?

As we sat there, drifting slowly towards… God only knows… I played out all the different scenarios in my head. What would happen if George had gotten to Jack? What if George killed him? What would my son be left with? What if Jack had killed George? I wasn't sure if he was in a state to fight. If he wasn't, would there be anyone around to protect him? These questions and deadly scenes went round and round in my head, lodged there. Stuck. I felt myself spiral downwards into despair. All of these unanswered questions were driving me insane.

I needed to go back. I needed to know. I needed Jack to be okay.

The boats ahead of ours came to a stop. We'd reached land. One by one the occupants of the boat stood up and stepped ashore in their dream-like fashion. Their boats then dissolved into the sand as if they had never existed to begin with. I stood up and waited for my own turn. I couldn't wait to get off this boat. Perhaps if I could find some oars on land I could row back to Jack. Even as I thought of it, I knew it was a ridiculous idea. But that wouldn't stop me from trying. I leapt off before the boat touched the sand and looked around me for help. It was dark; the only light was still coming from the lanterns at the front of each boat. The sand stretched out a few feet in front and then disappeared into the dark. I didn't know what lay beyond where I stood, but the more I looked into the blackness and thought it about it, the more terrified I became. Something deep inside me told me not to walk any further in.

I turned to look back at the way we had come. People climbing out of the boats continued their serene walk on the sand. They all seemed to know where they were going and they were all going in the same direction. I shuddered. I tried to step in front of one of them. "Excuse me," I said. She didn't even blink. I turned to another one and spoke again, louder this time. "Excuse me! Can you help me?" He kept walking too, staring fixedly ahead of him. Not one person so much as flinched or acknowledged me. They continued on their sombre march. I wondered if I should follow them. I really didn't want to, but it was looking as if forwards might be the only way to go. I was pretty sure that once I had gone with them, there wouldn't be a way back. I wasn't sure how much longer I could stand here.

I waded out into the waters and stood beside the nearest boat. I hesitated before gently laying Rebecca down inside the boat, freeing my hands up to grab on to the sides. I pulled with all my might, but no matter what I did or how much I pulled the boat continued its steady progression towards the sand. If I could just turn it round and go home, where I needed to be… The occupant of the boat stood up and got ready to step out. The boat began to disintegrate beneath my fingertips. I snatched up Rebecca and within seconds the boat was gone. Water lapped at my ankles. This was hopeless. I was verging on tears. I looked out in the direction that the boats were coming from.

Then, from the silence, came a welcome voice. "Isabel," his voice was so familiar. "My darling Isabel…" I felt relief shake my body. I was sure that my joy and shock over hearing him speak again ] would have stopped my heartbeat if I'd had one. "I've missed you," he said. I'd missed him too. I let out a soft sob.

"James," I whispered. "Help me."


	4. A Familiar Face

"Isabel," he said again. His eyes were spilling over with tears as I stumbled towards him. I was so full of relief and so happy to see him that I could barely stand. Everything in front of me was blurred with the tears in my eyes. His arms found me on the dark beach and for the first time in what felt like a painfully long time I was surrounded by family. I had never been more grateful to have someone that I knew I could talk to. It's amazing what one familiar face in a sea of dead strangers can do to you. I clung to him, just letting myself feel how much I had missed him. I couldn't believe he was here. I couldn't believe how _real _he felt. Seeing him and being able to hug him was the biggest comfort I could have asked for. Not just because it meant that I was no longer alone in this place, but also because it put my mind at rest. At least now that I knew he had been safe and well and not just… _gone _from everything.

I pulled away to look at his face. He looked exactly the same as he had in life. He smiled down at Rebecca. She blinked back at him with interested eyes. "Rebecca," I said to her and at the sound of my voice her gaze fixed on me. "This is your Uncle James."

I looked to James as he gazed down at Rebecca with amazement in his eyes. I had seldom seen him look so happy. In life he had been in an almost permanent state of seriousness, responsibility and tension. Here he seemed free of all that. It was refreshing to see. It was nice.

"Uncle," he whispered, more to himself than me. "I'm an Uncle." He tore his eyes away from her to look at me. "Can I hold her?"

"Of course," I smiled at his excitement. Being careful to support her at all times I carefully passed her into James's waiting arms. As I watched the two of them interacting with each other in the simple way that is only possible with an infant I was filled with a fleeting moment of happiness. It was brought on by the absolute normality of the situation. This was what family was about. There was only one thing wrong with this picture… we were all dead. My happiness was then extinguished by the hopelessness of the situation and the abnormality of it all. That realisation pushed me back to thinking about home. We had to go back…. _Could _we go back?

James looked at me again, "She's beautiful." I smiled.

"Yes, she is," I agreed. My pride in my daughter was tinged with sadness at the thought that she may never grow up. "James-" I began.

"I'm sorry," he said suddenly.

"What?" I was a little taken aback.

"I'm sorry… for not realising sooner that your path… I mean, the path of piracy… was the right one. I was just… I…"

"It's all right," I almost laughed as I put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "I don't think either of us ever would have guessed that I would turn _pirate._"

James looked thoughtfully back down at Rebecca. "She's… she's Sparrow's I presume?"

"Yes," I nodded, I saw a glint in Rebecca's eyes that was unmistakably her father's. I smiled, "Yes she very much is."

"And… er," he shifted uncomfortably. "Did you… I mean, were you…when she was…"

"Yes, we were married," I said hurriedly, feeling myself blush. Awkward conversations about the nature of the conception of my child were something I never thought I would have with my brother… especially not in the afterlife. He nodded his approval and looked slightly relieved. As my embarrassment began to fade a thought struck me. "Wait… you didn't know?"

He shook his head and I frowned. Maybe we did only get one chance at seeing those we'd left behind… My heart sank. He laughed at my confusion. "Isabel, I'm dead," he said as if I hadn't noticed. "How could I possibly know all this?"

"I just thought you might have kept an eye on us… or do you only get one chance at that?" I dreaded the answer, but it was his turn to look confused.

"One chance at what?"

"Going back," my words were met with a blank stare. Why wasn't he getting this? Perhaps it was to do with the length of time that he had been dead, maybe he'd forgotten. "You know… to say goodbye."

"Oh, while you're dying do you mean?" His look changed to one of enlightenment for the briefest of moments.

"No," my frown deepened and he was confused again. He wasn't the only one. "I mean, once you've died. After you've been under the water, but before you wake up in those boats…"

His eyes widened. "Isabel… you… you were _awake _for all that?" I nodded. He looked a bit stunned. "And you went back over to the living?"

"Yes," I said, his reaction to all of this was making me apprehensive.

"We have to get moving," he snapped. "Immediately."

He was suddenly business-like, passing Rebecca back to me and placing a hand between my shoulder blades to propel me forwards. "What…?" I was instantly worried. Where on Earth was he taking me?

"I knew I was here for a reason," he muttered.

"James," I said loudly as he pushed me along even faster than before. I glanced around us, looking behind to check that there was nothing there that James had us running from. The urgency that he was leading me away with had me panicked. "James! What are you talking about?"

"Come on," he glanced around us too. It suddenly dawned on me that this might not be real. James's grip on my arm was like a vice. I remembered everything I had been through in the Maze, how I had been duped into thinking that those… _things _were my parents, I even briefly believed in a fake Jack. Who was to say that this was the real James? I stopped abruptly and wrenched my arm free of him.

"I am not stepping another foot away with you until you **tell me where we are going**!" He turned back to face me. I stood stubbornly on the sand. He looked slightly annoyed, but also a little desperate.

"You're not dead yet."

"What?" my voice came out higher than usual.

"You're not dead yet," he said again.

"Erm… I think you'll find I am," I was stunned by this strange idea he had in his head. So stunned that I let him pull me along again.

"No," he said curtly, shaking his head.

"James!" I said in disbelief. "I _saw _my own body. I saw Rebecca's. I saw my husband and the son I've left behind. I am definitely dead."

"But that's just it Isabel. You shouldn't have been able to see your own dead body or anyone living. Nobody can. You aren't dead yet… but you being here means that you're close to it. We may only have minutes left… I don't know, but we need to find out." I felt my mouth drop open. I could hardly bring myself to hope.

"What… what happens if I'm not dead yet?" I asked quietly. "Is there a chance… could I…?"

He stopped walking and stood in front of me. He put his hands on my shoulders and looked me dead in the eye. "I don't know," he said, honestly. "Maybe. There's a chance that this may not be your time, or it might just be that you're passing over more slowly than others."

"What if it's not… 'my time'?" I asked, desperate for the answer to be exactly what I wanted to hear, but I wasn't sure I could handle it if it wasn't.

He studied my expression and I knew that he would know exactly what I was thinking. "There are risks," was all he would say. "Big ones."

"What?" I was overcome with a feeling of utter helplessness. I didn't understand any of what he was saying. His eyes were serious. He put an arm around me.

"You want to go back?" he asked.

"Yes…" I breathed.

"I'm sorry, Isabel," he said quietly. "I really hope you can get back, but… I want you to be aware of the consequences, because there could be huge ones. It's not something that can be undertaken lightly. Do you understand?"

"Yes," I nodded. "What do I have to do?"

He ignored my question. "The risks may far outweigh the chance of you recovering."

"James," I said. "I've been ripped away from the man I love and… my _son. _There's nothing I wouldn't do to go back to them."

"All right," he nodded. I noticed that he looked a little bit sad.

"What's wrong?" I asked quietly. He sighed.

"It gets… it's lonely without you." he shook his head. "Selfish of me really..."

I hugged him. "I miss you," I told him. "There's not a day goes by that I don't, but… you need to understand that I have to go back. And it's not like you'll miss me for long. Life doesn't last forever, James, we both know that."

He gave me a weak smile and nodded, "I don't know enough about this to help you, but there's someone here that can."

"Who?"

James turned and pointed to where there was a ship moored on the sand. The ship was spectacularly familiar. It had once absolutely terrified me, but seeing it now filled me with warmth and hope.

It was the _Flying Dutchman. _

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__**Hello my pretties :) Have you read "Never Would Have Lied", a Sweeney fic by PirateNinjaCJS? If not then do, it seriously has some of the best Sweeney/Lovett scences ever and I do believe things are only just hotting up ;) Enjoy it (and tell her I sent you)!  
**

**Anyway, thank you so much for reading!And thank you to everyone who has favourited/put this on alerts. It really means a lot. Please leave a review. Love you all :) xx**


	5. The Captain of the Dutchman

There was a sudden surge of excitement inside me. Will. Of course. Why didn't it occur to me that Will would be here? I felt so much safer. If anyone was able to answer my questions, it would be him. I sped up, desperate to reach the _Dutchman. _I still found it an odd thought that a ship which had once caused so much fear was now captained by one of my best friends. The ship still made me feel apprehensive, there was just some unshakable aura surrounding it that gave me a deeply unsettled feeling. I had been terrified of it for so long that it felt completely wrong and unnatural to be walking freely onto it. Everyone from the boats was lining up outside the gangplank. None of them boarded, but I couldn't see where they went after that.

James led me to the front of the queue. A man was standing with his back to us, but I could tell immediately that it was Will. He was deep in conversation with the woman at the front of the line and his father, Bootstrap, was standing not far off. It was Bootstrap who saw us first. He pointed and Will turned, a confused frown on his face. It was such a familiar look I had to stop myself from calling out to him. My face split into a grin. James took Rebecca from me and I sped up towards him. "Isabel," he said and his jaw dropped a little.

"Will," I finally let myself say it. He turned fully round to face us. There was an open book in his arms. He looked down at it.

"Isabel," he said again, running his finger down whatever was written on the book. He looked back up, utterly bewildered. "You're not on my list."

"Well Hello to you too," I said sarcastically. His frown deepened. He flicked through a few pages.

"And Commodore… you've… you've already…." His eyes flickered back to me. "You're… you're not on my list."

"Will…" I said slowly.

"You're not on my list!" he said again.

"Please stop talking about your bloody list!" I snapped. He looked back up and blinked at me. "Idiot," I said affectionately and flung my arms around him in a tight hug. I felt him laugh and hug me back.

"Isabel," he said again, disbelief written all over his face as we broke apart. "How _are_ you?"

"Well…" I raised an eyebrow. "I've been better, but I've probably also been worse. How are you?"

"Confused," he admitted. I fought the temptation to say 'no change there, then'. Will was still frowning away at me. "Without wishing to sound… what I mean is… what are you _doing_ here? I don't think you're dead."

"She's not," James stepped forwards, holding Rebecca. This seemed to double Will's confusion. "I think-"

"Wait! Where did the baby come from…?" Will looked utterly bewildered. I laughed.

"She's mine," I smiled. "Mine and Jack's."

Will scooped me up and swung me round in a circle. "Finally! Congratulations Izzy," he put me down, still grinning widely. "You and Jack… I knew it, well… it was Elizabeth who said you'd work it out, but I always thought that, what I mean is that I-"

"Will!" I snapped.

"What?" He blinked at me. I laughed and shook my head at his ridiculous ramblings. James handed Rebecca back to me. "Oh," Will smiled. "Sorry… what were we discussing?"

"She's not dead yet," James said again. Will was suddenly serious.

"Well… no, she can't be. She's not on my list," he checked it again. I was tempted to rip up his bloody list. All I cared about was getting Rebecca and I back where we belonged.

"I think she might be in, er… _altum__somnum_," James said sombrely. I had no idea what that meant. I looked to Will; bizarrely it all seemed to be making sense to him. He nodded; it was the only time during this entire conversation where he hadn't looked confused. Unfortunately it was the _most _confused I had been.

"Ah, yes, that would explain why she's not on my list."

Bloody list again.

"What?" I stared at the pair of them.

James was nodding along with him, "Exactly. Thing is, I don't know how long she's got."

Will studied me. "Well… she must be in pretty deep," he said eventually. "She's made it all the way here and she looks… She looks like she could almost pass as belonging to this world… but… not _quite_."

They were both scrutinizing me with narrowed eyes. I immediately felt self-conscious. "What!" I said again, more sharply than before.

"You're right…" James continued as if I had not spoken. "She looks a bit… opaque."

"Excuse me!" I said indignantly, looking down at myself to see if I see what they were talking about. Now that he had mentioned it, I did look… just a tiny bit different to the other souls around me. It wasn't that I was see-through exactly… or that I wasn't solid in the way that 'ghosts' are depicted to be. It was just that I was paler… and had less substance. It was very slight, but now it had been pointed out I could see how I differed to those around me. Everyone else's colours were vibrant and solid and colourful and I was a bit… faded. Now I'd noticed it, it was strange that I hadn't realised it before.

"Not to mention," James said, I looked up, alarmed as to what else I might have missed. "Her hair's a complete mess."

He tried to keep a straight face as I pulled my most disgruntled looking one at him. Will laughed as I ran my fingers through my hair to sort it out and did my best not to smile at my brother's teasing. We hadn't had an argument like this since we were children. It was nice to see him in a state where he was relaxed enough to do so. "Will one of you _please _explain what is going on?"

They exchanged a look; James nodded to Will to explain. I looked at him expectantly. He took a deep breath. "You're in 'altum somnum', it's a state of very deep sleep. So deep that they won't pick up on it in the Living World and to them to will appear to be dead. Your body is alive... technically. You are so far past the point of dying that most of your soul has come here in preparation. So much of your soul, in fact, that you will not even be aware of your physical body anymore. And your physical body will not be giving off any visible signs of life- your heartbeat is at the slowest it can possibly be, you will hardly be breathing. There really is very little of you left there, but it's enough to get you back if you want to."

"Yes," I said immediately. "Yes! Will. I need to get back."

Will's expression did not change in response to my sudden enthusiasm. "To get back you have to travel through Limbo," he said.

"Ok," I nodded. "So let's do it."

"It's not quite as simple as all that, Isabel," he said seriously. "If your physical body dies while you are still travelling back there you will remain in Limbo for an eternity."

I gulped. "Eternity?"

"Yes," he nodded. "There would be no way back for you, since you have neither crossed over, nor left the physical world. Although, should you choose to end your journey you _can _turn back at any time and cross over, provided that your body remains intact."

I bit my lip. This was a lot to process. I felt myself getting nervous, but I knew what my answer would be. I had to try. I had to. How could I possibly live with myself if I did even try to piece my family back together? "I'll do it," I said.

"Isabel," I knew it would be James who spoke out, at first I was automatically annoyed by it, but then I saw the concern in his eyes and I couldn't stay angry at him for looking out for me. It was all he had ever done… even if his judgement hadn't always been right. "It's a lot to take on. Nobody knows what is in Limbo. People seldom come back."

"I have to try James," I said. "I _have _to."

"I know, Izzy." I could tell by the look in his eyes that he had been expecting to hear this. "I'm coming with you," he said. I was touched.

"James…"

"Don't argue," he snapped in such a familiar way that it made me smile.

I looked to Will, "Can he?"

Will nodded, but he seemed pre-occupied by his stupid list. "James has already crossed over, so he is in no danger…" I saw his eyes flicker briefly to Rebecca. "I… um,…"

"William," James said quickly. "A word?"

He nodded, still looking concerned. James grabbed Will by the arm and pulled him into a heated, but hushed discussion that was well out of my earshot. Under any normal circumstances this would have infuriated me to the point of madness, but now it didn't bother me. I was actually feeling pretty upbeat... considering that I was surrounded by dead people and was, not for the first time in my life, facing something completely unknown. I was still nervous about the whole thing, but overall I was feeling positive. I had my one of my best friends near me, I had a chance to spend time with my darling brother, I had my beautiful baby girl and I had a chance to get us both back… back to my baby boy and back to Jack.

"We're going home, darling," I looked down at Rebecca and smiled, "Back to daddy."

At the thought of her father my smile faltered a little. I hoped he was doing all right. It was then that I felt that old, familiar wave of drowsiness wash over me. I saw Will and James turned to look at me, but they felt so faint and far away. I guessed what was about to happen before it did. I was about to find out _exactly _how Jack was doing.

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	6. What Good is Happiness When You're Dead?

**Hey :) So, before I begin I would just like to let you all know that a TRAILER has been made for this series by PirateNinjaCJS... I couldn't believe it when she showed me it, it's honestly amazing and I'm really touched by it. So here's a link to it on YouTube if you want to see it - ****www . youtube watch?v=Cs9ZYOJqrj0&feature=plcp** (take out the spaces)

Love you all :)  
LV  
XX

* * *

This time, I could hear before I could see.

How long had it been? How long has it been since I last saw my darling Jack? A booming crash behind me told me that it hadn't been long at all. Could it be that it had literally only been seconds of Jack's time since I had last been here?

My eyes snapped open. Jack was still kneeling by my body and the door was still shaking on its hinges. It had truly only been a matter of seconds since I had last been here. How was that even possible? It was then that I decided not to question what went on while I was in this state. Hardly anything was making much sense and it seemed like an equal amount of things were completely out of my control.

There was one slight change from the last time that I was here- Jack had noticed that the door was close to breaking. He'd seen it, but he wasn't moving. "Jack!" I shouted to him as I ran towards the door, even though I knew he couldn't hear me. "Get out of here."

Parts of the door were splintering and cracking under the strain of being beaten down repeatedly. I was sure that I didn't have long, what I wasn't sure of was whether or not I can help. I turned and pressed my shoulder against the door. I couldn't properly feel the wood, but I could feel the vibrations of it moving and I think that somehow I was sort of helping to hold the door together longer than it would have without me exerting all my effort over it. I heard a baby begin to cry and I looked down at Rebecca. It wasn't her. I looked back up to see that Nyssa had come back into the room with my baby boy in her arms. He was crying.

"Jack," Nyssa said quietly, setting my son down.

"No!" I shouted to her. "No! Don't! You all have to get out of here!"

Of course she didn't hear me; she just walked further away from my son. At least she had set him down far from Jack, so that if the worst happened he had a lower chance of being harmed. I wasn't happy about him being in this room. I needed him moved, but how could I possibly do anything? I was getting used to being completely hopeless, but I would never be able to accept it. It would never stop distressing me.

"Jack," Nyssa said again. "You should come away now." Jack didn't say anything. He didn't move for a while, and then he looked up.

"Give me my son," he said his voice thick and his eyes brimming with tears. Nyssa hesitated.

"No! Don't!" I groaned to myself, watching Nyssa pause.

"Give him to me!" Jack shouted. Nyssa moved to pick him up. The door shuddered behind me. She handed him over. Whatever was holding the door together finally gave in and it split open. Jack and Nyssa both looked sharply up. If screaming at them in frustration for reacting at the last possible moment would have made a difference I would have done it. Redcoats poured in through the door and I was powerless to stop them. Isaacio sprang out from nowhere and he and Nyssa began to take them on using methods I'd never seen before. It seemed that Atlantisians could fight harder that I thought was possible and they had all kinds of strange magic… science- whatever they called it- to help them.

Two of the Redcoats were out cold within their first few steps through the door.

"No!" Jack said as Isaacio turned to face George. I watched Jack lay our son lovingly down next to my body and then rise to his feet to look at George with hatred in his eyes. "He's mine," he snarled, drawing his sword.

George had just noticed my body lying on the ground. "Isabel," he whispered at his fight faltered. The men he was leading saw his hesitation and they hesitated too, completely bewildered by what was going on. I saw Barbossa, who had been fighting with them, stop in his tracks. It was a hesitation that cost them all. It gave Nyssa and Isaacio enough time to throw something into the air which bound and secured all of them except George. Isaacio nodded to Jack. His request had been taken into account and he and Nyssa stepped back. What were they doing? This was the stupidest possible move. They needed to get Jack and George as far away from each other as possible. George's wide eyes were still on my body.

"Don't look at her!" Jack snapped. He was shaking. "You don't deserve to look at her."

George raised his eyes to meet Jack's. He looked at him with disgust. "What have you done?"

His question hung heavily in the air. It made Jack flinch. "No… " I said quietly, moving to Jack's side.

"What did you say?" Jack asked. I had never seen him look so dangerous.

"What have you done?" George repeated, louder than before. "What have you _done _to her?!"

"I would never hurt her," Jack said fiercely. George was angry and for the first time in a long time I saw the George that I used to know. The George who had once been one of my best friends and, in spite of everything that had gone on, still cared about me deeply. I knew how this would look to him and I knew how he would react. However, I didn't know if Jack was in a strong enough place to face him and win. He looked so unstable. His fragility was clear for everyone to see… Everyone including George.

George gave a snort of disbelief. "Well she looks pretty hurt to me," his tone was cold.

A roar of rage erupted from Jack and he sprang forward. His sword clashed against George's and the two of them came face to face. It was the hardest I've ever seen either of them fight. Their blades flashed through the air, clanging and scraping and smashing against each other. Why were Isaacio and Nyssa just standing there? Couldn't they see that the best thing they could do in this situation was to contain George and get him as far away from Jack as possible?

My son began to scream on the floor.

George's eyes flickered towards him. "The baby…" he questioned as he lunged away from Jack's blade. "Is it hers?"

Jack swiped for him again, "He's _ours," _he corrected. "Mine and Belle's."

It was George's turn to swing for Jack, driving him backwards. "That makes me sick," he said and his upper lip curled. "Was it rape?"

I saw Jack's knuckles turn white as he gripped the hilt of his sword. "Never," his voice was low, but it was firm. "I would never."

"But why would she-"

"**She loved me and you know it!**" Jack bellowed, regaining control of the fight and backing George into a corner. His anger was driving him, pushing him through and I didn't give much for George's chances.

"Stop," I said quietly. "Please stop."

I willed them to do so, hoping that I could discover some kind of other-worldly powers that could influence what they did. It was all to no avail. "A lot of good it did her too," George scoffed. There was another angry growl from Jack. George's sword almost slipped from his hand, but he regained control of it just in time. "You should have left her with me."

Their swords met mid-air.

"I _love _her," Jack said as their blades pushed against each other. George laughed.

"You may have fooled her with that, but you're not fooling me," he said. Jack was caught off guard and George's next blow sent his sword flying. George kicked him to the ground and stomped on his back. I screamed. Jack was winded for a moment, but George didn't take advantage of it. He wasn't done saying what he wanted to say. George put his foot in between Jack's shoulder blades and began to press down on them. "If you loved her so much, why didn't you leave her where she was safe?"

Jack coughed, George was obviously doing some damage. "She… wouldn't have… been … happy."

"**At least she would have been ALIVE,**" George bent down and shouted it into Jack's ear. There was a moment of renewed fight in Jack as he twisted to reach for his sword and then turned to swipe at George. Gorge leapt back and Jack sprang to his feet. The two began to circle one another. George was the first to go for Jack. "You killed her, Jack," he said quietly.

"No," Jack moaned, but he didn't sound like he believed it. He knocked the sword from George's hand.

"It was _you_ who took her from where she was safe. It was _you _who put her life at risk bearing your child. It was _you _who brought her down here…" Jack had him pinned against the wall. For George, the fight was as good as over, but for some reason it didn't seem like Jack had won. He was shaking… almost crying again. George's words had more than got to him. They were destroying him. "And for what?" George questioned. "Some stupid Fountain… You put her at risk and she _died_ so that you could chase some old myth. That's not love… that's selfishness. She may not have been happy at home, but what good is happiness to her when she's dead?"

"No…" Jack moaned again.

"Face it! _You _killed her! _You _are the reason that she is dead," George spat. "So don't you _dare _tell me that I don't deserve to look at her."

"No…" Jack said softly, tears rolling from his eyes. The blade he was holding at George's throat was shaking. For a second it look like Jack's inner pain might weaken him enough to give George an opportunity to escape, but then Jack's anger began to fuel him again. It was easy enough to see that Jack wasn't just angry with George anymore… his fury was directed to himself.

"Go on then," George taunted as Jack pushed him harder against the wall. "Kill me. Just like you did to Izzy. Go on."

Jack struggled with himself for a moment. "No," he roared. "No… but only because it's not what she would have wanted. You can rot here, but I won't kill you."

Jack used his sword to pin George to the wall and then he walked away. He clenched his shaking hands into fists and walked away. "Look at her," George shouted after him, struggling away from the wall. "_LOOK AT WHAT YOU DID!"_

Jack could no longer bring himself to look at my body.

George ripped the sword that had him pinned -Jack's sword- out of the wall, freeing himself. Jack had his back to him and didn't notice. George took Jack's sword by the hilt and with a murderous light in his eyes he sprang forwards.

I wasn't the only one who screamed.

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**Dun dun dun! **

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	7. Still Feel Like a Winner?

George wasn't lunging for Jack.

He was lunging for our son.

I knew that I was helpless and nobody would hear me, but I couldn't help my screaming. It was just a natural reaction. I don't know what made Jack turn, but he did. And then he was screaming too. His eyes were already wide and the colour had left his cheeks. There were a few split seconds of utter confusion, which my fear elongated into an eternity.

I saw George's blade move through the air and his face twist with rage. His eyes were locked on my son, who was lying helpless and screaming on the ground. I saw the panic on Nyssa and Isaacio's faces and both of them gave a start. They started running, but I could see that they wouldn't make it in time.

Not my baby. My beautiful boy. Not him too.

I knew that that was what George wanted. He wanted to punish Jack by leaving him with nothing.

It was a loud BANG that ended the confusion. I could smell gunpowder. There was a clatter as George's sword hit the ground. He stumbled backwards. Before I could have rushed to try and help my baby and before I'd even seen him reach for it, Jack's pistol had gone off. It was at such close rage that it blasted George backwards. His back hit the wall and he slid down, leaving a trail of blood down it. He lay slumped at the bottom, but I could see his ribcage moving. He was still breathing. He was still alive… but it was clear that he wasn't going to last long.

I turned to look at my baby. I ran to him and knelt down to have a good look. He was completely unscathed, safe and sound. George hadn't had a chance to do anything. I hadn't thought that anything had happened, but in the confusion I couldn't have been sure. I let out a sigh of relief and stood back up again to look at Jack.

I could see that his hands were shaking as he held his pistol out in front of him. His eyes were still wide. I don't think he had even realised that he had pulled the trigger until he saw George's blood. His eyes scanned the area where I had been standing. I moved slowly back there, studying his expression and trying desperately to lock eyes with him. "Did you…" he whispered to Nyssa, who had finally stepped forward. He slid his gun back into its holster and took a step towards me. "Did you hear…"

His eyes found my face so many times without him knowing it and I wanted to cry out to him.

"What?" Nyssa pressed. She looked apprehensive, as if there was an answer she was expecting. She kept glancing in the general direction of where I was standing.

"Nothing," Jack blinked, still staring at where I was standing. He tore his eyes away from that spot and shook his head, as if to clear it. "I thought I heard-… nothing."

It was then I knew that he'd heard me screaming. I had no idea _how, _but somehow he had heard it. I saw Nyssa and Isaacio exchange a look and I wondered if they knew more than they were letting on. Had they heard me too? Were all of my efforts finally breaking through to them? Or was it just a coincidence? Jack walked away and scooped up our son in his arms. He clutched him tightly to his chest. "You're all right," he whispered to him and for the first time in a long while Jack's hands weren't shaking. I saw the ghost of a smile tug at the corners of his mouth. "I've got you. You're all right."

He squeezed his eyes tightly shut and kissed his son on the forehead. Our baby's cries died away in his father's arms. There was a moment of almost happy silence and then George found the strength to speak. He was attempting to slow his blood loss by pressing his hand over the wound and as a result they were stained crimson, as was the front of his shirt. "You don't…" he was finding it difficult to speak. "You… don't deserve… him."

George's eyes flickered to the infant in Jack's arms. The one he had just tried to kill. Jack looked at him. "Shut up," he warned, but George knew that he was getting to him. A twisted smile spread all over his face as he struggled to pull himself into a sitting position. It was the last and only attack of a dying man.

"You don't…" he winced as he rested on one arm and pushed himself further up the wall. "… deserve anything of hers."

Jack's anger became too much and he handed the baby to Nyssa, so that he could draw his pistol again. "I told you," he said "to shut up."

George tried to laugh, but the pain he was in stopped him. His breathing was becoming laboured. "You've not won," he said defiantly.

"It looks like I have, mate," Jack said, but his expression was hollow. George shook his head.

"You killed her. You left your child motherless and you have to live with that…" he said. Jack stood in front of him with his pistol raised and aimed at George's head. One quick click of the trigger is all it would have taken to silence, but looking at Jack's eyes I could see that he couldn't quite do it. He looked too lost, confused. I could see that George's enjoyment of Jack's pain was almost making him forget about his own. "He'll hate you Jack… that child will hate you. For what you did… what you are. You killed his mother… how can he live… with the man who did that…? How can… _you… _live with that?" Each and every one of George's words was cutting into Jack like a blade. It had made him almost forget about the gun in his hands. The gun that could have stopped those words from weakening him. Despite being the one who had survived this battle, it was Jack who looked terrified. He was terrified that everything George was saying was true. George raised an eyebrow, "Still feel like a winner?"

The muscles in Jack's jaw tightened. "I didn't… I didn't kill her."

I knew he didn't believe it.

George was becoming weaker, his eyes began to close involuntarily, but he fought to keep them open. They shut for a moment and he rested his head back on the wall. "We'll see… what she thinks...I'll be with her soon. Then we'll see… if she blames you." He smiled. Jack shook his head and mouthed wordlessly. George opened his eyes and fixed them on Jack. The malevolence in his gaze was matched only by that in his smile. "When I see her… who shall I say sent me?" His body became motionless, but he had enough breath for one last, accusing taunt to Jack. "Murder."

And with that George's eyes became glassy and everything he was left his body. I saw the air around him seem to wobble and twist and turn. I expected to be able to see him. I hoped I would so that I could kill him a second time around, but then everything seemed to shift. The air around his body became still again and I somehow felt, deep down, that he had passed on.

Jack's pistol dropped to the ground with a clatter. Nyssa stepped forward and tried to hand the baby back to Jack. "Jack…" she said gently.

"No," he cut across whatever she was about to go on and say. "No. He's right. He's right. It's my fault…" For a moment Jack struggled to look at my body.

"No… Jack… I really think you should-" Again, Nyssa tried to hand Jack back his own son. He turned away, no longer able to bring himself to look at me or his child.

"No," he said again. "He deserves better." He turned his back on everything and walked to the door. In the door way he paused and tilted his head in the direction of my body, but he couldn't look at it. "I'm sorry," I heard him whisper. Then he was gone.

I wanted to run after him, but I could feel that I didn't have long left here. Nyssa looked distressed, but Isaacio put a comforting hand on her shoulders. "He'll come round," he said soothingly. "He'll come round…"

Nyssa gulped and looked sadly down at my son. "I hope so."

I did too. I also hoped, that if George _had _passed on, Will would give me a chance to punch him in the face before he sent him to the Other Side.

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**Lots of love,  
LV xx  
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	8. Setting Sail For Life

"I'll kill him," my eyes snapped open and met with my brother's. He didn't have a clue what I was talking about.

"What?" he asked, but I turned my gaze on Will. If anyone could help me with my need to make George suffer, it was him.

"Let me get him." I demanded through clenched teeth. Will blinked back at me, looking just as confused as James.

"Who?" he frowned. I realised that Will had roughly the same clues as James had as to what I was talking about and was therefor just as clueless.

"George," I narrowed my eyes and Will looked down at his bloody list. He turned a page over and scanned a few names. I felt the urge to rip the list out of his hands and shred it to a million pieces using my bare teeth. I managed to stop myself, but my anger was almost blinding. My jaw was clenched so tightly it hurt. Will looked back up at me.

"He's on his way…" he looked solemn at the news and almost sad. This made me want to punch him in the face until I remembered that there was no way that he could know of George's recent development, which had seen him turn into a complete and utter whelp. Will looked at me, "How did you know that he…?"

"He tried to kill my baby!" I said, not even attempting to keep my voice level. Will's eyes widened dramatically and he and James looked at each other.

"George?! As in… as in… _our _George?" he asked incredulously. I nodded. Will shook his head to clear it. "No… no he wouldn't…"

"You have _no _idea what he's like now, _no _idea what I've been through because of him," I told him. James looked more than a little bit guilty. He cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other.

"Er…" he muttered. "I… uh, may be partly at fault for some of that."

"Yes." I replied dryly. "Yes you may be."

There was a short silence, during which we both stared at each other. I could see the guilt in his eyes battling over his defence that from his point of view he had been doing what was best for me by attempting to untangle my life from a life of piracy. "I'm sorry," he said eventually. "But, I didn't think that- "

"It's all right," I smiled. "How were you to know that he would turn into a complete madman who would take me, lie to me, hold me against my will, chase me and my husband around the globe, try to kill my aforementioned husband on several occasions and then end up trying to kill my new-born son just so that he could fulfil the marriage agreement that you and he had previously reached without consulting me on the matter?"

The guilt had now completely overcome any form of defensiveness that had remained. Will's look of shock intensified. His mouth hung slightly open and his eyebrows were the highest up his forehead that I had ever seen them. "George…" he whispered in disbelief, still shaking his head. "I can't believe it…"

James gulped, "I'm sorry… really, I am, I just… I saw you with Sparrow and I knew that you... I just wanted better for you, that's all."

"_Better for me_?!" I repeated. I could feel myself swelling with anger. "What is wrong with my choice of husband?!" I asked dangerously.

James looked like he wanted to argue, but thought better of it. "Nothing."

"Good." I decided to let it slide this time, there were other people who I was angrier with. Having been reminded by this, I turned back to Will. "Let me see him."

"Who?"

"George. **WHO DO YOU BLOODY THINK?**!" I snapped. Will took a step back and I saw James flinch. Rebecca squirmed in my arms.

"Well… em, you _could _wait for him, but…" Will started to stammer under my angry glare. "It would cut into a lot of your time to get home. But… it's up to you."

"Urgh," I groaned in frustration. I looked down at Rebecca and my anger seemed to evaporate slowly. As much as I would have liked to make George suffer, there were more important things to be done. I had to get Rebecca and myself home and back to life as soon as possible. I had to hope that George would get what he deserved when he got to whatever was waiting for him on the Other Side. I took a few deep breaths and looked back up again. "Fine," I sighed. "Fine. Let's go." I paused and looked at Will, "But if you see him, you tell him that-"

"I know, I know," he said hastily. I narrowed my eyes.

"Good." I nodded. "Then let's go."

Will nodded back and pointed out to sea. If I'd had a heartbeat the shock of what I saw would have sped it up. As it was, I had to settle for a gasp. This couldn't be real… could it? "Will…" I whispered. "Is that…? No. No it can't be."

Will smiled at my disbelief. "It isn't just dead people that come here, Izzy."

"The _Pearl_?" I smiled at the name and at the familiarity of the sight of the ship floating nearby. Then the realization hit me. "She sank?"

Will nodded, "Yes. Not too long ago. I had a feeling I'd need her. You can use her to get home and, if you're lucky, when you get there you can keep her there."

"I had no idea she'd sank," I admitted, but I supposed that it would make sense. We had left her tied up and in the path of both George and Blackbeard, I should have known that her sinking would have been inevitable. Will's eyes flickered to Rebecca and then he looked to James.

"Are you still going with her?"

"Of course."

Will nodded. They both seemed unsettlingly serious. I studied them both, but I wasn't sure whether or not I was reading too much into their expressions. I was sure that I saw a look pass between them. I didn't have enough confidence in my suspicions to question them about it, so I let the moment pass. Will looked back to me. "All right," he said. "The _Pearl _will take you where you need to be. The journey won't be very straightforward, but you should get there… as long as you don't run out of time. Will you be all right?"

"I'll have to be," I said. I was determined even though Will had been incredibly vague as to what I might come across I was not going to underestimate it. I had been through so many weird and wonderfully terrifying things that I had learnt never to underestimate anything. Ever.

"Good," Will smiled at my determination. He put a hand between my shoulder blades and began to guide me away from the _Dutchman _and towards where the _Pearl _was moored. "Now, listen," he said. "Go as fast as you can and… this flitting between the two worlds that you can do… does Rebecca always come with you?"

"Yes," I nodded. "Always." Will looked thoughtful, "I see."

I didn't trust his tone. "What?"

He looked suspiciously innocent, "Nothing." He knew that he wasn't going to get away with his questionable answers. "I was just wondering whether or not she would go with you at the time you were travelling there if you weren't holding her when you went there."

I thought it over. It was an interesting point, but I didn't really see its relevance. "Why is that important?" I asked. He hesitated. I thought I saw him exchange a look with James, but again I couldn't be sure. "Will…" I said dangerously.

"I just don't know if it's good for her, that's all. I mean, she's never had much experience in the Physical World. It could… it could be damaging," he saw the panic in my eyes and immediately rushed to try and fix it. "I don't know for sure, Izzy. This is all just my speculation."

James laid a comforting hand on my shoulder. "Next time it happens, leave her with me, just to be safe, okay?"

I nodded, feeling a little bit calmer. Will stopped in front of the _Pearl _and turned to me. "This is where I leave you."

"Oh," my heart sank. I had hoped to spend more time with him. I'd missed him since he'd been trapped here and bound to the _Dutchman._ I pulled him into a hug. He gave me a tight squeeze.

"When I come back," he said, his voice slightly muffled. "Will you meet me again?"

"Yes of course, of course I will," I promised. I pulled back from him; there were tears in both of our eyes. "I miss you."

He began walking back to the _Dutchman_, but he stopped and turned after a few steps. "If you see Elizabeth," he said. "Tell her I love her."

I nodded to show I understood. I watched him walk away. Neither of us say goodbye because we both knew that this wasn't final. It might take nine years, but our little group would be reunited again. James saw how far my mood was about to drop and he put his arm around me.

"Let's get you home, Izzy," he smiled.

"Yeah," I smiled, feeling myself cheer up. "That sounds good."

We took our first few steps onto the deck of the _Pearl _and she began to move automatically. It was surreal to see her so empty. I felt like the rest of the crew were here, but the eerie silence and empty stations told me that we were most definitely the only two on board. James wandered away from me, checking the ropes of the mainsheet as he clearly did not trust whatever kind of enchantment was steering this ship. I looked to the wheel. Seeing it empty caused a strong tug on my heart. I thought of Jack. He should have been up there. "I'm coming Jack," I said quietly to the empty wheel. I tried to picture him in the happy state that I was used to seeing him in, so that I wouldn't have to worry about the state he was in now… and what he might do now that I wasn't there to keep an eye on him.

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	9. James

**Helloo :) If you follow all of my current stories then I'm sorry that you're going to have to put up with the same author's note three times. Anyway, I'm moving into University accommodation on Saturday, so I might not have as much time to write as I would perhaps like to, especially seeing as I need to get settled in to my new place, meet my flatmates and get packed/unpacked (wish me luck I'm so nervous, I hate meeting new people :S) So this is just to let you know that there will be a longer gap between updates than might be normal. Please don't be cross with me; I'll be back on it as soon as I can be. **

**As always, thanks for reading.  
LV xx**

The _Pearl _glided along smoothly. It was as if the waves did not affect her. At first this confused me, but soon I reasoned that if she was not _technically _a real ship with no real, physical form to speak of, then perhaps she was some kind of ghost ship and real things did not affect her. She was travelling of her own accord and so we had very little to do. When Will had first shown me the _Pearl_ I had been worried about running a ship as big as she is with only two of us… well; three if you included Rebecca, but she couldn't exactly help out much. She'd learn to help when she was older. She'd work with us- me, her brother, and her father. Her brilliant father. I clung onto the image of us all on the _Pearl_. I had to make it more than just an image.

I couldn't get used to being on the _Pearl_ without the crew. Without her Captain. I felt almost as comfortable on board her as I usually did, but I couldn't shake visions of the crew from my mind. I could almost see them. Many times I thought I did see them out of the corner of my eye, but when I turned to look there was never anything there. I could always feel their presence. I wasn't sure whether it was because I was hyper-aware of the fact that they _should_ be there, but weren't, or if there was some other force at work. I could feel their energy in the air around me, I'm not sure how else to describe it. It was as if they were ghosts and not us. It was a comforting feeling to sense them at first, but without them physically there it was also a little eerie.

I saw James watching me with a smile on his face as I tightened the mainsheet to coax some more speed from the _Pearl _and I stopped what I was doing to frown at him. I didn't like how amused he seemed to be. "What?" I said.

"I just cannot believe how things have changed. You really do know your way around a ship now, don't you?" he said. I thought I detected a hint of something very unusual in his voice and I stopped what I was doing to study him.

"James Norrington," I said, grinning at him like I used to when we were children. "Do I sense that you are perhaps _proud _of the fact that your sister can run a ship better than you can?"

"I wouldn't say better," he frowned slightly, but I knew he wasn't angry.

"Well I would," I said cheekily. "Considering that this ship is far better than any of the ones that you've ever been in charge of and so far, _I _have done most of the work."

I got an eye roll for that one. "Well you know how this ship runs better than I do," he grumbled, but I could see that he was secretly enjoying being able to have this kind of sibling rivalry again. So was I, these fights had grown scarcer the older we had become.

"I suppose so," I agreed reluctantly. "But that's only because this ship is my home."

He shook his head. "I still can't believe that you ended up pirate." He saw my warning glance and struggled to redeem himself. "It's just so far from… how we began. And I…"

"I know," I rested a reassuring hand on his arm as he trailed off. His smile was small, but it was thankful. I didn't think that he would ever be able to get his head around me being pirate, but I felt relieved that he was at least beginning to accept it. I looked at him, "Where do you think we'd be if none of this had happened?"

It was a question that I had not fully considered myself. What if our lives had never crossed paths with cursed pirates? If our lives had continued on the paths that they were on before the crew of the _Pearl _had come searching for a cursed medallion, where would we be now? James would probably still be alive and so would I, come to think of it. He'd probably have married Elizabeth, but he'd have travelled just as much as he had before. And me? Well… I'd be married to George right now; James would have got his way. Perhaps George and I would even have had children. Maybe James and Elizabeth would have too. Will would still be at the blacksmiths. I wonder if he ever would have moved on from losing Elizabeth to James. Jack would have been hung when he'd been captured in the blacksmiths and I would never have known him. I would have lost him without knowing what I was losing.

"Alive," James said after some considerable thought. "But unhappy." He paused again and I could tell that he was still thinking it over. I nodded my agreement. He took a deep breath, "You were never happy, were you?"

"Well… I wasn't _sad_," I said, wanting to spare his feelings. It was he, after all, who had raised me. "I just wasn't... content."

"And you're happy now?" he asked. "With Sparrow?"

I didn't like the way that he said 'Sparrow'. "Yes," I assured him. "Yes, I very much am." He nodded, but still looked doubtful. I sighed, feeling my frustration build. "You still don't like him."

It wasn't a question, but he shifted uncomfortably under my scrutinizing gaze. He knew better than to lie to me. "It's not exactly a match that I'm happy with… no," he admitted.

"Why?" I pressed him on the issue, trying my best not to sound angry. If I could manage to keep the conversation rational and calm then maybe I could make him see sense in a calm and rational way. I had to admit, it wasn't my usual style. "Is it because he's a pirate…? Because I thought we were past all that."

"It's not that. Well… not exactly. It's just… is he good to you? Is he a _good _man, Isabelle?"

"Of course he is, James," I said. "Would I have married him otherwise?"

James studied me, clearly unsure as to whether I was asking him a genuine question or if this was a trap whereby I was testing out how stupid he thought I was. "Well…" he said eventually. "Sparrow can be rather… _charming _to say the least. I just don't want him hurting you." When I didn't explode at him with a torrent of abuse he felt safe enough to continue. "I don't trust him, that's never been a secret. But if you're sure…"

"I am," I said with as much conviction as I could muster.

"All right then," James muttered, but I could see that he remained unconvinced. It frustrated me that James didn't believe me, but I knew that he had only ever seen one side of Jack. He'd been so used to fighting him that accepting him might be bordering on impossible. The years of hate between James and Jack ran too deep for me to be able to eradicate it with words alone, so when I felt another familiar wave of drowsiness lapping at my consciousness I smiled. The best way to convince James of how good a man Jack is was to _show _him. I grabbed his arm and he looked at me in surprise. "Are you all right?" he asked, full of concern. I didn't have a chance to answer before I saw the same feelings that were coursing through me flow through my fingertips and pass into him. He frowned and looked a little bit worried. Rebecca stirred in his arms and then we were gone.

When I opened my eyes I knew that James would be there. I knew he would be. He, on the other hand, looked far more surprised by his new location than I was. The Fountain stood alone now, the room was empty of everyone- living or dead. "Where are we?" James asked as he looked at the Fountain of Youth in awe. I noticed how silent it was and realized that the battle must have ended. Where was Jack?

"This is where I died," I said, listening carefully to my surroundings. Where was everyone? It didn't take me long to pick up on the faint sound of a baby crying. I walked towards the sounds, beckoning for James, who was still holding Rebecca, to follow me. I led them down a corridor, carefully listening to the cries of my child getting louder. I stopped when I reached the room it was coming from. Nyssa came down the corridor behind us, holding some kind of liquid. She looked tired. Where was Jack? She opened the door that we were standing in front of and I saw him standing with our son, trying desperately to calm him down. I didn't know how long I'd been away for this time, but judging by the state of Jack it had been much longer than last time. There didn't seem to be any method in when I turned up here. I couldn't choose when I came and went. If I thought that Nyssa looked tired, Jack looked a thousand times worse. His skin was pale with exhaustion. There were dark circles under his eyes. I thought that I must have been away for a day or two. And it looked as if Jack hadn't had a moment's sleep for any of that time.

"You should rest, Jack," Nyssa said exactly what I was thinking. I felt a rush of gratitude towards her. At least there was someone looking after him… or trying to. Jack just shook his head at her and turned his attention back to his son. Nyssa held up the liquid she was carrying. "Here, give him this." The crying stopped as she fed him and Jack looked relieved. He sat down reluctantly as Nyssa took over.

"Do they know we're here?" James whispered. I shook my head.

"They don't have a clue," I replied, sounding as miserable as I felt.

Poor Nyssa tried her best to lift Jack out of his mood. "Have you thought of any names yet?" she asked in an attempt to lift his spirits.

"James," Jack replied, taking the baby in his arms again and rocking him gently. My brother jumped at the sound of his name. "After her brother…. It's what she would have wanted."

It was. It was exactly what I wanted and I hadn't even known it yet. Of course Jack had known it before I did. He was far better acquainted with me than I was. James's arm went around my shoulders, but he was staring at Jack in shock. "Oh Jack," I whispered to myself, wishing that he could hear how much I missed him. I felt myself well up and saw the same look reflected in my brother's eyes. His comforting grip on me tightened, but he couldn't seem to get over the shock of what he had just heard.

"James," he muttered his own name. "After me…I… I… don't… I can't…" He finally looked at me. I could see the amazement in his eyes and it made me smile. My husband truly was an amazing man.

"I told you so," I smiled through the tears in my eyes. Every time I saw Jack and Baby James I found it ridiculously difficult. I had a burning need to be close to them, but I knew how my time with them was limited. And every moment I spent with them in this form was another moment taken away from time I could be spending trying to get back to them permanently. But what if I didn't make it? I looked at Jack's tired face. He was exhausted, broken, there was hardly any of the old Jack left. He couldn't carry on in this state for long. If I didn't make it back I needed to know that he would be able to get better and carry on without me. I wanted him to live a life that was long and full, even if I couldn't be there to be a part of it.

Baby James soon fell asleep in his father's arms and Jack laid him down. Nyssa stopped Jack from pulling up a chair beside Baby James's crib. "Get some rest," she said. "I'll watch him."

Jack hesitated, looking reluctant to leave his son. "I'm fine," he insisted.

Nyssa wasn't fooled, obviously. "Jack, there are people here who can look after him, it's okay for you to take time off," she said firmly. He hesitated again. Nyssa smiled encouragingly, "You're no use to him when you're dead on your feet."

Wrong choice of words.

Nyssa's smile faltered, but Jack moved towards the door. "Yeah," he muttered despondently. "I'm no use."

"No, that's not what I meant!" Nyssa protested, but the door had already shut behind Jack. She sighed and sank into a chair. James saw the worry on my face.

"I can't help him," I whispered, trying my best not to cry. James was at a loss as to what to tell me.

"He'll be all right," he offered as a lame kind of comfort. "He's a good father, at least you know that."

I nodded, forcing a smile so that James wouldn't have to feel bad about not being able to cheer me up. I walked over to where my son was sleeping and looked down at him. He moved around a lot in his dreams, often looking as if he were reaching out for me. I bent down close to him. "I love you my darling," I told him and his sleep became less restless. I straightened up as the door opened. I thought it might be Jack and I could tell from Nyssa's expectant expression that she thought so too, but it wasn't. It was Isaacio. I took the opportunity to stand in the doorway while it was still open. It was difficult being so powerless here.

"Did you pass Jack?" Nyssa asked him. I stopped in the doorway to listen. James stood with me and with a lot of effort we managed to stop it from closing.

"Yes, he's on his way to bed," Isaacio replied. Nyssa shared my relief. I saw them both frown at the delay the door took in closing. Then we could hold it no longer and we had to duck out into the hallway. I stared at the shut door, not sure what to do now. Obviously I had to check on Jack, but how was I supposed to find him? I started walking down the hallway, pausing outside each door to listen for anything that might give me a clue as to whether or not he was behind them. A few of them were slightly open. I heard a group of people snoring so loudly that there was no way that it could have been any other group than the crew of the _Pearl. _I stopped in my tracks. I felt a sudden rush of love for them all. I never thought that I would miss their snores.

"Isabelle," James called. I turned. He was standing by a half-open door. Had he found Jack?

"What is it?" I asked as he beckoned me over.

"I think I've found you," he replied.

"I'm not looking for me," I reminded him. "I'm looking for Jack."

"I know, but we need to check the state of your physical body and that you still have one to get back to," he said, slipping into the room before me. It was freezing in there. The room was full of bodies that were lined up. I tried not to look at them too closely, but at the far end of the room, set slightly apart from the others, I saw my own. James walked towards it and I followed reluctantly. It wasn't something I particularly liked looking at. "It looks okay," James said as we drew nearer. I took Rebecca from him and focused on her while James examined my body.

After a moment I heard the door shut. Jack had walked in. He made his way over to us and sat down by my head. James drew back and came to stand beside me. "I wish he knew I was here," I muttered.

Jack stared at my still face. "I can't sleep without you, love," he said quietly. He kissed my forehead and then buried his face in my hair. I could hear him crying again and the sound ripped at my heart.

"God," James whispered. "He really does love you."

I nodded, unable to speak. I knew that we'd be back on the _Pearl _soon, I could feel it. I could feel myself being dragged away. I was almost okay about it. I thought that Jack might be all right for another little while. Surely, he'd sleep soon- there's only so long the human body can function for without sleep before it forces itself to rest. Baby James was well looked after. He was certainly loved. I relaxed as much as I could about the thought of leaving my boys behind. But then, just as James, Rebecca and I were slipping from the Physical World I saw something that made me shudder and forced me to fight with everything I had against the tidal wave that was slowly engulfing me. Just before I slipped away from him I saw something that made me sick with worry. Because I knew _exactly _what Jack was running through Jack's head.

He'd pulled out his pistol.

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	10. Sleep

**I'M BAAAAAAAACK. Did you miss me? Yes? Good. I missed you too. **_  
_

**Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter. Sorry about the cliff-hanger I left you on, but y'know... these things happen.**

**Please review :)**

**Thanks for reading, love you all.  
LV XX  
**

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_No._

_**No.**_

This couldn't be happening… it just couldn't.

I opened my eyes again. I was back on an almost empty _Pearl, _sailing on an empty sea, beneath an empty sky that was so far from where I need to be. For a brief moment, despair completely consumed me. _What_ was he doing? Why? Why?! And _why _was I stuck back here again? I was no use to anyone here… least of all to Jack, who needed me the most. What could I do? What the hell was I supposed to do now? My despair made me momentarily numb to everything and then the anger flared up inside me. All I could see was Jack's pain. It blinded me, burning like a fire in my chest before it tore through me.

_Please be okay. Please. Please be okay. _

"No!" the word ripped itself from my throat without any particular direction for me to hurl it in. My hands found the rail of the _Pearl _and I gripped her tightly, staring into the calm waters below. They were strange waters, ones I did not know. There was something about them that made them different to the ever-changing blue that signified home. Signified Jack.

Jack.

_Please be okay. Please. _

These waters were as stagnant and as still as death, as well as being completely unfamiliar. "No!" I shouted to them again, and for some reason the unresponsive waters anger me further. If I could just move faster than they were allowing me to. If I could just get back _now. _I hated feeling helpless. Jack's situation was beyond my control. I couldn't even _see_ him. I couldn't even be close to him. He needed me. My chest felt tight and it was difficult to breathe. It seemed that just existing was causing me pain. My nails dug into the wood of the _Pearl, _marking her. It started to hurt a little, but I knew that all that tension was what was holding me together. I held my breath in an attempt to stop myself from crying, but there's only so long you can hold it for… even if you're technically dead. When I let it out, it burst out as a sob. My grip on the _Pearl _slackened and all the tensioned in my body flooded out of it. It left me weak. I leaned heavily on the rail, my mind filled with thoughts of Jack.

_Please be okay. _

_Please, please, please._

How was this fair?

How could I know that someone I love was in so much trouble and not be able to do anything about it? And how could I be ripped away at such a crucial point?

I knew how hopeless I was in the Physical World… even if I was there with him; could I do anything to change the events that, for all I knew, had already happened while I'd been standing here? It was the last thing I wanted to be witness to, but… how could I not at least be there for him? How could I not at least be there to _try _and help him? Not knowing what had happened to him was torture. The thought of Jack, alone in his darkest hour made me feel physically sick. I had to get back. Even if I couldn't do anything to stop it, or help him, I had to be with him. That was the way it was supposed to be. Always. Especially in times as dark as these.

"Let me go back," I said quietly, my voice cracked as I spoke. I slammed my fists down on the rail and looked up to the sky. "Let me **go back.**"

"Isabelle," my brother sounded pained as he approached me. I turned and I saw the sympathy in his eyes.

"James," I whimpered. He pulled me towards him and I collapsed into him. He held me for a moment in complete silence.

"I need to go..." I whispered. "I need to go back."

"I don't think you can, Izzy," he sounded miserable for me, hugging me as tightly as he could with his free arm, as the other one was still holding Rebecca. I nodded to show that I understood what he was saying. I didn't mean that I accepted it.

"Jack…" was all I could whisper, burying my head in my brother's comforting embrace. I knew what he was trying to do, but it would never work. I would never be okay with the thought of being here while _he_ was in such turmoil. And there was nothing on this earth that would comfort me. "Why?" I moaned. "Why can I only see him when I sleep?"

_Sleep._

"I don't know," was all James could offer, but my mind was on other things. For a brief moment I felt a glimmer of an idea spring up in front of me.

_Oh my God. Sleep._

_Sleep._

That was it. That was the answer. Every time I went back it was preceded by a feeling of drowsiness. I was forced into an artificial sleep. If I could get myself into a state of unconsciousness then maybe, just maybe, I would be able to get back of my own accord. I raised my head from James's shoulder and looked back towards the rail and that calm, calm sea.

Calm as death.

There was only on sure and quick way to do it.

I walked away from James and back towards the rail. Without hesitating I climbed up to stand on it.

"What… what are you doing?" James was instantly panicked. I knew that I only had a certain amount of time before he stopped me from doing what I needed to do. I glanced over my shoulder.

"Sleeping," I said before I jumped.

I heard him shout for me as I fell into the water.

I wasted no time swimming as far down into the depths as I could push myself. When the time came for me to breathe in I deliberately forced myself to inhale underwater. My natural reaction was to swim upwards immediately, but I had to fight it. I had swum so far down that I was underneath the _Pearl _now. There was no escaping this fate now. I didn't want a way out; I had created this situation so that there wasn't one. My body convulsed involuntarily with the pain that inhaling so much sea water was causing me. I felt like I was being stabbed repeatedly between all of my ribs at the same time. I clenched my fists and squeeze my eyes tightly shut in an attempt to block it out. Soon enough, I felt myself getting weaker and the pain dulled. I floated there, far beneath the surface and darkness started to creep into my eyes.

_God, I hope this works._

_Please, Jack, please be okay._

_Please be okay._

_Please…_

I opened my eyes and felt relief flow through me. I had done it! I was at the opposite end of the room to him, but I was in the right place. Thank God, it had worked!

And I wasn't too late. Not yet, anyway.

My relief at having succeeded was short-lived. Jack had laid out all of his things- his Compass, his holster, his sword- and placed them beside him. His pistol was still in his hand, as he reached up the other one to take his hat off. His eyes were on my body. He laid his hat down too. The room was deathly silent. His hand shook as he raised his pistol, but when it reached his head it stopped.

"NO!" I shouted and started to run towards him, but I didn't know what I would be able to do when I got there. Was this a terrible idea? How could I have thought that seeing this would make it _better_? Then, I saw his pain and remembered that this wasn't about me. I had to do this… for _him, _because he needed me right now. "Jack!" I couldn't stop my tears from falling as he pressed the barrel of the gun to his temple. "No, Jack, _please… __**don't do this. **_Think about our son. What about James? Darling, I love you. Please. Please don't."

I was screaming it at him, but I knew it wouldn't be any use. If I could just reach him and try to pull that gun away, he might just be alright. But then something changed in Jack's expression. It was almost as if he had heard me. The shock of it made me stop in my tracks. "Jack!" I shouted, but this time there was no reaction. Jack was losing interest in whatever it was he thought he had heard. I took another step forward and then I heard it too. The Compass rattled.

Jack and I both stared at it. I moved again. Another rattle.

_Yes!_

Jack lowered his pistol, but did not drop it. He frowned at the Compass and picked it up. I almost smiled, but I was too tense. I started walking again, this time in a different direction, just to test it out. I watched Jack's eyes follow the needle of the Compass. Then he looked up.

Right at me.

"Isabelle," he whispered. I stared back at him, hardly able to believe it.

"I'm here, my darling," I replied, but of course he didn't hear me. He looked back down at his Compass and shook it. I started walking towards him again. He tracked my progress until I was standing right in front of him. He looked up again and I had to catch my breath. He was staring right at me.

He was looking right at me and for once he knew it. There was a world between us, but here we were- standing, facing each other across the void between life and death. His pistol clattered to the ground as he reached out a hand. I reached towards him too. We smiled at each other.

"You're here," he whispered. I nodded.

"I love you," I said.

"I love you," he said, just a second after.

I could feel that I was fading away before our fingertips had a chance to touch. I knew I was slipping from him again, but this time it didn't matter. He knew that I was there.

And that was enough. For now.


	11. Seven Graves

I regained consciousness to a heavy banging on my chest. I coughed and my mouth filled with fluid. The sharp pains digging into my lungs between my ribcage reminded me that they were full of water and that I should probably do something about that. I opened my eyes and turned over onto my side. The coughing was relentless. It was difficult and painful to get enough air back into my lungs to have any kind of productive cough. All the discomfort didn't bother me as much as it probably should have… it wasn't exactly the first time that I had been in that position. I smiled as I remembered that the first time this had happened was, in fact, the first time I had met the man I love. And since that day I have been unwater an unnatural number of times. It was probably borderline unhealthy.

I emptied my water-filled lungs onto the deck. When I felt the familiar ache of exhaustion in my limbs that let me know that I was done coughing up water for one evening I leant back, still smiling, and looked up at the stern face of my brother. He didn't smile back at me. I felt my own smile begin to falter and fade away.

"Oh," I said after an uncomfortable silence.

I knew that was exactly what he had been waiting for before his anger exploded and ripped through me like a bullet. "What the bloody hell were you thinking?!" he asked me furiously. I could have predicted that question while I was still unconscious. I sighed and sat up.

"James," I said wearily. I loved that he cared enough to worry about me, but once… just _once… _it would have been nice if he'd trusted my judgement. Especially given that I had actually turned out to be right about many things. Chiefly, the piracy issue. I should have said 'I told you so' when I had the chance. I was regretting it now. "You _know _what I was thinking." He couldn't really argue with that, I had made my intentions perfectly clear. "I'm sure that any sane person would have done what I did."

"What, drown themselves?" he chose to argue over the case of my sanity. I gave him a withering look.

"No, James," I said shortly. He was just being pedantic. "I mean done something to save someone they love."

One of his eyebrows rose slightly and his lips got a little thinner in the way that they do when he is disapproving of something I've said or done. Which happens most of the time. Even though most of the time I happened to be right. People do reckless things for love, that's half the fun of it. "Under normal circumstances, Izzy, this does not involve throwing oneself off the edge of a ghost ship and drowning in a dead sea."

He was trying to remain stern, but he accidently made me smile without meaning to. "Under _normal _circumstances there wouldn't _be _a ghost ship or a dead sea," I countered.

He still looked a little bit annoyed, but all of his argument left him in one swift roll of his eyes and he helped me to my feet. I enjoyed the way that death had mellowed his temper… and mine come to think of it. I think the time that we had spent missing each other had made us far less likely to continue an argument. "Did it work?" he asked, a little apprehensively. I nodded and he looked relieved.

"It did. It's fine. He's fine. He knew I was there." I couldn't stop smiling at the memory of it. The feeling of looking at my husband and having him know where I was… it was just incredible. James was astounded beyond belief.

"What… how…_**how**__?"_

"His Compass," I said by way of explanation. I couldn't manage anything more useful. He looked confused for a moment until he remembered the details of the compass I was referring to. I took Rebecca from him and smiled down at my beautiful daughter. She seemed happier and more relaxed than she had before. Perhaps she had sensed that everything was well now… or it could just have been my imagination, or my own mood affecting the way that I perceived hers. Either way, the two of us were quite contented now. After a moment she waved her arms around and stretched them up, as if reaching out for something far above us. I looked up to see what had caught her attention. Something above me sparked and then a small object came floating down towards us. I waited until it was about eyelevel before I held out my hand. It fell neatly into my palm. It was a small piece of parchment, which looked as if it had been pulled from a fire. The edges of it were blackened, smouldering and curling slightly as I held it. The words on the parchment looked as if they too had been burned there. They read;

_Graves are not as silent as they say  
And there are seven standing in the way  
Between you and the path home that you seek,  
First you must listen to these seven speak.  
Not all of them will mean you well,  
So beware of falling under their spell.  
What these seven have in common is you  
Never forget that dead men can tell tales too._

No sooner had I finished reading it than the parchment turned to ash in my hands. I closed my fingers over it and the ashes poured through the gaps between them and scattered onto the deck. I'd been so caught up in saving Jack and making sure that he was alright that I'd forgotten that my journey home was far from over. I looked to James, who had been reading over my shoulder. I thought that he might be able to shed some light on the matter, but he looked even more clueless than I felt.

"Did that make sense to you?" he asked me. I frowned, trying to run the words through my head again and again so that I wouldn't forget them. In my experience, cryptic messages delivered by an unknown source were _always _important.

"I'm not sure…" I said, running them through my mind one last time before I decided to voice the theory that seemed the most likely. "Seven graves… I think… I think there are seven people here that I need to talk to. Seven people I know who've already died…"

James nodded in agreement, but we were both still blatantly unsure about everything that was going on. He glanced around at the dark, empty sea and the dark, starry sky. "So… where are they? Do you have to find them… or will they come to you?"

Before I could answer him the _Pearl _turned sharply in the still waters. Thick sea mists descended from nowhere and began rolling towards us. Soon we were completely engulfed by it. For a few seconds it was all I could see. I heard a bell tolling from somewhere within it. It rang out, deep and clear_. _It was then that I noticed something incredibly odd about the fog. It smelt… it smelt… familiar.

At that instant it cleared slightly and withdrew to the density of an ordinary sea mist, so that I could actually see my surroundings and see the rails of the _Pearl _once more. "Smells like… London smog…" I said, stepping forwards to peer into the mists as the last reverberations of the bell faded into nothing. The words had hardly passed my lips before the docks of London rose out of the calm waters. The sight of them startled me and I looked back to James for comfort, but he was gone. I looked down at Rebecca and my heart immediately leapt into my mouth when I saw that she was beginning to fade from my arms, dissolving into the mists. "No!" I said, calling for her, but all she did was smile and leave me. I called out for her again and again when she was gone. I listened for the sound of her crying. I tried to call for James too, but there was no reply. Everything around me was silence.

I prayed that wherever James and Rebecca were, they were together and they were safe.

The _Pearl _glided to a stop at the docks. I was reluctant to move, so I stood frozen to the spot, still searching for my brother and daughter, even though I knew that it was hopeless. Then, from the mist I heard a voice call my name. It wasn't James's, it was a woman. She sounded so beautifully familiar that I almost couldn't believe it.

"Isabelle!" I heard her again and I had to cling to the rail to stop myself from falling over in astonishment right there and then. I tried to call back to her, but I couldn't make a sound. A massive lump in my throat was blocking any noise I tried to make. I searched for her in the fog, finally finding the strength to pull myself along to the gangplank, using the rail as support. I blinked back tears that were beginning to form in my eyes and stumbled down the gangplank onto the docks. Where was she? Where had her voice come from? "Isabelle," she called again. I turned around and saw her in the distance. I began running towards her and didn't stop until I fell into her arms. "My darling," she murmured as I enveloped myself in her smell.

I buried my face into her shoulder and finally managed to choke out a word. One word. Something that I hadn't called anyone in a long time, "Mother…" I started to sob and she tried to soothe me in the way that she always had.

When my crying had subsided a little bit she held me at arm's length and smiled. "You've grown," she noted and I couldn't help but laugh. The last time we'd been this close to each other I had been ten years old. Of course I'd grown. It wasn't a funny situation, but the mix of emotions that were stirring inside me made me borderline hysterical. I was so, so happy to see my mother again. But it also reopened the grief and loss that I had felt when she died. This whole situation was so ridiculous that I half-laughed and half-cried for longer than anyone ever should.

"Darling," she said softly. "You've been so brave, so strong to take on all of this."

"James… Rebecca… I… we were…. And now…. " I began babbling uncontrollably.

"They're fine," my mother assured me. "They're safe." I nodded as relief flooded me. "But we need to focus on you. You've got seven tales to hear. And this is mine…"

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	12. A Mother's Tale

"You were young when we died," my mother said, taking my arm and walking with me down the docks of London. "We didn't have much time. There's so much we had left to teach you, darling."

As we walked, each step that we took brought the city to life a little more than the last. The fog began to seep away from us, rising and curling up into the sky until it was nothing but the usual smoggy haze above the buildings of London. London got its bustle back and its people too. I don't know where they came from or who they were, but they brought the previously dead city back to life. It was full of voices and a noise that seems to me to be unique to London. It is like a low, persistent hum that reverberates around the city at all times of the day and night. It's the kind of noise that you only get in a place that truly never sleeps. There are always many things happening at once. Having been in such comparatively quiet places for so long- Port Royal, the _Pearl, _and the Land of the Dead- the gentle commotion of background noise was noticeable to my ears, but my mother, having grown up and spent most of her life here, didn't even register it. We reached the end of the docks. I glanced around at all the people who were surrounding us, many of them filthy, unwashed and miserable. So very miserable. That was another thing I had forgotten about London. It sucked the happiness right out of a large percentage of its inhabitants. I looked at my mother. "Who are they?" I asked.

"People from the past," she replied. Her eyes fell on an old, bind beggar woman who was being almost trampled to death by passers-by. "I suppose that many of them will be as dead as we are by now."

Not one of them had looked at us once and, as I followed my mother down the streets, I noticed something else that was odd. The crowds around us were a jumble of various different people who were all going to various different places at completely different speeds and levels of urgency. Everyone in London walks with a purpose and they don't particularly care about what anyone else's purpose may be. Everyone seems to be under the impression that whatever their purpose is will be of far greater importance than anyone else's. The crowds jostle and bump into one another. But not one of them touched us. I looked back to my mother for guidance. "Can they see us?" I asked, dropping my voice to a whisper, although I was unsure as to exactly why. It probably had a little bit to do with me not wanting to seem insane if everyone around us could see and hear both of us.

My mother smiled and shook her head, "No, Isabelle, I told you, they're from the past. How could they see someone who hasn't happened yet?"

I frowned, trying to make sense of it. "So…" I said slowly. "This is from before we were born?"

My mother smiled. It was a smile I hadn't seen in so long. It was the one she gave me when I had puzzled over difficult things as a child. Things like long words and spelling, where babies came from and who exactly it was that decided who could be parents and when.

"Before _you _were born," she told me. "And I… I was a different person."

She stopped there and turned towards a house that looked much like any of the other London townhouses. It looked a lot like the one I had grown up in, in fact, only this one was far closer to the docks. We stood at the gate in silence. The house obviously belonged to people of roughly the same class that my mother and I did… that was, I should add, before I'd turned pirate. It was quiet and from what I could see of inside, it looked still and empty. My mother led me through the gate and round to the back of the house. We'd only been there for a few moments before a door opened and a small, blonde girl of no more than six years old stepped out. She looked around her before she let the door close. I wasn't really sure why we were here. My mother was smiling at the house with a fondness in her eyes that I didn't understand. "You know this place?" I asked.

"I grew up here," she said and then she nodded towards the little girl, "that's me." My gaze shot back immediately to the little girl with the golden curls. Was that really my mother when she was six years old? This was too surreal. My mother laughed. "I looked quite a lot like you did when you were that age, actually… I'd never realised that before."

I smiled because it was true and watched the little girl play alone in the garden. After a moment she stopped and looked up. Something rustling around in the hedge to her left had caught her attention. It took me a while to realise that there was another small person clambering through. "No!" the high-pitched voice of my six-year old mother rang out as she stood up and frowned at the hedge. "You can't be here, it's _my _garden."

"It's my garden too!" the cross voice of a boy floated through the hedge towards her. My mother's frown deepened.

"It is _not_!" she protested haughtily, screwing up her face, clenching her fists and putting them firmly on her hips. She still did exactly the same thing when she was angry.

"Is too!" the boy tumbled through the gap in the hedge and landed at her feet. "I live here."

There was a silence as the boy and the girl stared at each other. She wrinkled her nose and narrowed her eyes. "No you don't!"

"I do!" the young boy was getting huffy, but so was my mother.

"Don't!" she said fiercely.

"I **do**!" the boy folded his arms and sat down on the grass. "My father works here and he works in the garden, so really it's more mine than yours."

The younger version of my mother eyed him suspiciously before she sat down on the grass beside him. Once she'd sat down neither of them looked at each other, they sat side by side ripping up fistfuls of grass. When she eventually looked at him it seemed as if her anger was gone. "We could share it, then," she said. The boy smiled.

"Yeah," he said and brushed the grass from his hands, looking a lot more cheerful. "My name's James," he said, sticking out his tiny little hand for her to shake.

James? Is that where my brother had got his name? I glanced at my mother, but she seemed to be pretty oblivious to me. Her face was alight with a kind of happiness I'd never seen in her eyes before, as she watched her former self take James's hand.

"Emile," my mother's past self was smiling in the same way as my mother. All the anger they had previously had towards each other dissolved instantly into laughter and they sprang into a game in the wordless way that only children can seem to do. Their laughter filled the garden until young Emile tripped and fell. There was a moment of silence while James stared at her. Her eyes filled with tears and she began to howl, pulling her knee round to inspect the blood that was pooling there. James froze and stared at her, not really sure what to do to help her. After a moment of anxious staring, he ran over to one of the pear trees at the bottom of the garden and turned back to look at her.

"Look!" he called. "Emile! Emmy! Look! Look at me!" Still crying, young Emile squinted up at him through her tears. James glanced up at the branches of the pear tree. "Bet you I can climb this."

"No... no, you ca-can't," young Emile said, still quietly sobbing, but the distraction had helped to subside her tears.

"I can," James said defiantly and started to hoist himself up onto the lowest branch. "Look." Young Emile was completely distracted by this and the tears were gone from her eyes. She stood up as he climbed higher up in the tree in order to watch him. He got as far up as he could and then looked down at her. I was instantly worried. He was so high up for such a young boy.

"Careful!" my mother's younger self and I were clearly thinking along the same lines. She seemed to have completely forgotten about her bloody knee.

"I'm fine!" he called, taking his hand from the branch and waving at her. She giggled and waved back. He reached out and plucked a pear from a branch before he began to inch his way back down the tree with the pear still in his hand. "Look. Look at me I'm fine!"

Young Emile clapped her hands together in a childish delight as James's feet touched the ground. He ran over to her and handed her the pear, wiping away the remnants of her tears with his sleeve. Not that young Emile had even remembered that she had any to start with. They sat back down beside one another. After a moment, Emile spoke, "If your father works here, then where is your mother?"

"She's dead," the boy said simply. "Where's yours?"

"Inside," Emile said as casually as James had announced that his mother was dead. "My daddy's inside too, but he's away a lot."

"My father's never away," James said.

"Lucky," Emile sulked.

"Not really," James wrinkled his nose. "He never has time to play with me."

Emile looked at him, confused. "Grownups don't play."

"Father used to, but that was back when he didn't have any work. Now he never has any time," James looked sad. Emile nodded with understanding.

"I have time," she offered, taking his hand. They smiled at each other.

"Why don't your parents play with you?" he asked. She shrugged and drew her knees up to her chin.

"I think it's because they're married," she answered after a moment's thought. "Married people have no fun."

James nodded and then thought for a second. "Unless you marry someone fun." He paused. "You're quite fun... y'know, for a girl."

"You're fun too," Emile's smile widened. "Maybe we should get married."

"Maybe," he agreed. "When we're older?"

"Okay," Emile nodded.

"Okay," James agreed. They sat quite still for a moment. Emile took another bite of the pear.

"Emile! Emile!" a woman's voice called from inside the house. Young Emile frowned and they both turned away from us to look back at the door. It opened and a short, plumb woman stepped out. "Emile! Come here at once. Have you not heard me calling for you?"

"Sorry, Nanny," Emile said quickly. "I was only playing."

Her nanny's eyes had fallen on James. Her lips disappeared into one long, thin line. "And who is this you were playing with?"

James wiped his slightly dirty hands on his trousers. I saw them shake a little as he did so. "Hello. Sorry, miss. My name's James. James Sallow." He extended his hand to my mother's nanny in a very polite way, but she did not take it. She did not even smile.

"You're Mr Sallow's boy, I presume?" she asked.

"Yes," he nodded. James's hand lingered in the air for a moment. Her cold eyes stayed locked on his, she had seen his extended hand, but she still did not shake it.

"I see," she pursed her lips. James lowered his hand and squeezed it into a tight ball by his side. Emile started to frown, sensing that something was wrong by the way that her nanny was acting.

"James got me a pear," she said cheerfully.

"Did he now?" one of my mother's nanny's eyebrows shot up almost as far as her hairline. Everyone could tell that Emile had said the wrong thing.

"Yes," she nodded, trying to sound cheerful, but not wanting to anger her nanny any further. "I feel over and hurt my knee and James got me a pear."

"I see," he nanny said again, sounding even less friendly and far more formidable that before, if that were possible. "Well perhaps your father will have something that you young Master Swallow can do to _earn _his keep. Perhaps some stable work?"

James bowed his head. "Oh no," Emile sounded massively disappointed. "I did so enjoy having someone to play games with."

"Well maybe he can have Sundays off," she said coldly. "For church." Both children were now looking equally sad. My mother's nanny turned towards the door. "Come along now, Emile."

Emile hesitated for a moment before she turned to James. "Church doesn't go on all Sunday. We'll always have time for fun."

James nodded and the look in his eyes brightened. "Yes," he agreed. "And we'll have a life of fun when we're married."

Emile nodded.

"Emile!" her nanny snapped. Emile jumped at the sudden noise and ran, leaving James standing at the bottom of the garden. He waved at her as she went.

The door shut and the fog descended again, blanketing everything around us. My mother turned to me. She was the only thing I could see in the mist. Unshed tears glistened in her eyes, but I couldn't tell whether they were born out of sadness, or joy, or a mixture of the two. "I saw my James every day after that. My father- your grandfather- made him stable boy and put him to work in the stables. I'd make every excuse in the world to go down there. He wasn't really allowed time off, but when he was busy I'd find a way to sit with him. My father never understood my sudden and keen interest in learning to horse ride, but he was far too busy to take any real notice. Our friendship worked, I think, because he had no free time and I had too much of it. You know what it's like as much as I do, Isabelle. If you didn't have your James, your brother, what would you have done?"

I thought about it for a moment. All those childhood years spent rattling around in a giant house all by myself. That's what it would have been like without James. "I'd have gone mad," I said quietly. My mother nodded.

"As would I. If it hadn't been for my James. And before you ask- yes, this is where your brother got his name," she smiled and looked back at where the fog was beginning to thin again. I saw that now we were standing inside the garden. I could just make out the shape of a tree with two figures sitting underneath it. "He did get Sunday's off," mother said. "Those were always the best days."

She looked at the two figures and her smile became a wide one. It was a lot like young Emile's had been. Happy, innocent and completely naïve. The fog lifted again and the house came back into sight, London sprang back to life and all the noise came crashing back.

They were older now- James and Emile. They were teenagers, perhaps about seventeen, sitting shoulder by shoulder under the same pear tree that James had climbed a few years previously. Emile was sitting with an open book on her lap, tilted towards James. Both of them were laughing, their heads bent together. "No," Emile giggled. "That's not it. Try it again."

James sighed, but he was still smiling. He took the book from her. They'd both changed a lot in the years that we'd skipped. My mother was starting to look a lot less like me and a lot more like her. James was far taller than her. By that, I mean he was a good head or two taller than she was. He might have been the tallest person I'd ever seen. His hands, which took the book from my mother's small and delicate ones, were rough and calloused from years of hard work. One thing that hadn't changed was their smiles.

He squinted at the words on the page. Emile sat back and watched him, resting her head on the trunk of the tree. There was a moment of silence and then James gave another sigh, lowering the book from his face to rest it on his knee. "Emmy… why do I have to do this?"

"James," she rolled her eyes. "We've been over this. Education is valuable."

"Not for a stable boy, Emmy."

There was sadness in his voice that left a seriousness lingering in the air. Emile's smile faltered for a moment as his real meaning knocked her back. "Well," she said brightly. "You never know."

There was a moment of silence. Emile was trying to gloss over it, trying to smile it all away, but James had a point that he wasn't willing to let go of. "We _do _know, Emile," he said. "We know that I'll never be more than this."

Emile's smile was gone completely. "Not if you don't try, you won't."

"What's the _point_?" he asked.

Emile's face flushed with anger. "You don't care at all, do you?!"

"I will _never _be good enough for you. I will _never _be in a position where your father will accept me. You can try to change me into someone you're proud of all you want. But that will _never _be who I am. I can't do this. I can't _be _that man. It's time to grow up, Emile. We're not children anymore."

"Fine." She snatched the book from his knee and snapped it shut. She turned her face away from his and then shifted so that her back was to him. He looked at her, but she didn't turn back. Without saying a word he stood up and swung himself up into the pear tree on strong arms. He picked two and climbed back down before Emile had even had a chance to notice that he'd gone. He waved one under her nose. She looked at it and tried to hold back a smile. She didn't last long. She took the pear from him and turned back around to face him, still trying to look moody. James picked the book up and tried again. Emile watched him, taking a bite of the pear. She reached out and took his hand. He looked up from the pages. "I don't care," she said quietly. "I don't care that you can't read or write all that well. I don't care about money, or what you do, or what my father thinks or anything like that. I just want you, James."

He smiled. "Emile Swallow," he said. "Can you get used to that?"

She grinned. "Of course I can." He put an arm around her and she leant her head on his chest. She glanced at him, looking a little bit concerned. "We'll be alright, won't we?"

"Yeah," he nodded, resting his chin on her head. "Yeah, we'll be fine. We'll get married, start a family."

Emile smiled again. "A family?"

"Yes, yes. First we'll have a little girl."

"What will we call her?" Emile asked.

James didn't hesitate. "Isabelle."

"Isabelle," Emile tried the name out and smiled. "I like it."

James laughed and kissed the top of her head. The sight of them- both so young and happy and in love- filled me with happiness. Their voices faded away as the fog rolled in. I glanced at Emile and my heart sank.

Emile _Norrington._

That was her name. Not Emile Swallow. Emile Norrington. My mother. She may have had a girl called Isabelle, but my father's name? Lawrence, not James. Young Emile's life hadn't quite worked out the way that she had wanted it to. She turned to me and all of her smiles were gone.

I didn't think that I was going to like where this story was going.

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	13. A Mother's Lesson

We often forget that our parents are people in their own right. They weren't just created with us in mind. They have pasts of their own, hidden loves we never get to hear about, a childhood of their own. One thing they certainly have is secrets.

There was a silence. My mother was looking serious, sad; building up to something that I was sure was going to be uncomfortable to hear. I let the silence drag on, not entirely sure what to say to her. It was odd to see her looking like this. Odder still, was when it was I who comforted her by taking her hand. Usually, it had been the other way around. A small smile lifted the corners of her lips as I did so and I felt a little bit less odd, knowing that I was doing the right thing. She was still staring ahead of her at where the thick fog had blanketed the scene that had been before us. Her eyes were bright with an unshed pain. It made my heart ache to see her this way. I wanted to say something to cheer her up, but I was completely at a loss for words. "You may have noticed," she took a deep breath. "You may have noticed that _wasn't _your father."

I nodded. "Yes… I had noticed," I paused, unsure if the question I wanted to ask would be one that she would be okay with answering. It was a difficult position to be in. If this had been Elizabeth I'd have no problems quizzing her over a mysterious man, but this was my _mother. _Did I have permission to pry into her past private life from a time long before I was born? I felt myself tense as the words slipped out, "What happened?"

She shrugged and sniffed back her tears. "It's just one of those things, darling. A love like that could never have worked."

"Why not?" I asked. She smiled bitterly.

"Surely you've noticed the way our class are," she said. I didn't have the heart to tell her that I hadn't turned out exactly the way she may have planned. I doubted that she'd understand. At least James had been there to witness the build up to it. The last time my mother had seen me, I had been ten years old and terrified by my father's tales of the pirates he had faced. To her, it would have been such a drastic and sudden change, she probably couldn't have dealt with it. I would feel bad for telling her the truth, as it could potentially upset her further. I'd already lost my mother once. I didn't want her to shun me in death. I pursed my lips and nodded, feeling guilty for hiding who I was. In an odd way it felt like I was betraying myself by doing so and, indirectly, betraying Jack. Perhaps I'd tell her. When the time was right. But for now, it would be easier just to agree with her, because I knew better than she could have imagined exactly what she was talking about.

"Yes," I said. "I have noticed."

She nodded in agreement and the fog began to clear again. When it did the first person I saw was my father. My heart leapt when I saw him. I wanted to run and hug him, but I doubted that I would have been able to. My mother saw the excitement in my eyes and my smile froze. I wasn't really sure if that was the correct reaction for me to have. After all, I hadn't yet found out what had happened to stop my mother being happy. Had it been my father's fault? Had he treated my mother the way George had treated me? I relaxed when I saw my mother smile. "Don't worry, Isabelle," she said. "I do not doubt that you will see your father soon enough."

I nodded, not quite sure what to take from that, and looked back at the scene that was unravelling. My father looked young, fresh-faced and leaner than I ever remembered him. He was also being a lot quieter than I ever remembered him being. He was looking at young Emile, who was standing on the opposite side of the room in a haughty silence refusing to look at anyone else. I could see that her eyes were red and she was trying very hard not to cry. Her jaw was clenched in a determined silence. Between both of my parents stood both of my grandfathers. They were looking rather pleased and friendly, despite the coldness that was radiating from Emile. Either they hadn't noticed, or they didn't care. They shook hands.

"I'm glad we have settled on a date," my mother's father said.

My father's father nodded in agreement. His smile was bright. "The 23rd of next month it is, then."

I saw Emile tense in the corner, before she shot a glare across the room at her father. He ignored her and both he and my other grandfather left the room, deep in a quiet conversation.

Lawrence Norrington shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. He clearly wanted to break the silence, but wasn't really sure how to go about it. "It's nice to finally meet you, Emile," he said at last. She glanced his way, but did not reply. I could see her struggling with her desire to maintain her haughty silence and her impulse to cave in to what her manners were screaming at her to do, which was politely reply to him. Lawrence took a small step forward, "I mean to say… we have been betrothed for some time. It's nice to put a face to the name." There was another moment of silence and I could see that Emile was cracking under the pressure. Lawrence extended a hand to her. "I know you do not want to be here, but I assure you, I am a good man. And I will make a good husband."

It was then that Emile cracked and turned to take his hand. He bent to kiss it and Emile looked at him properly for the first time as he straightened back up again. "I don't doubt that you are good," she said, looking slightly apologetic. "It's not you that I am angry with, it is my father."

"I understand," Lawrence nodded. Emile relaxed and even managed a smile.

"Good. I apologise if I seemed rude, Lawrence," she said sincerely. "That was not my intention," she shot a glance at the door her father had walked out of moments before. "At least not towards you, anyway."

"It's fine, Emile," he assured her with a smile. "We will learn to get along, I am sure. I don't want a miserable marriage any more than you do."

Emile smiled again, but this time she didn't really mean it. I assumed she was thinking about a certain James Swallow. I wondered what had become of him and if he was still in her life. There was another moment of silence before Lawrence's father came to take him away. The pair parted in a cordial manner, but the moment the door closed the atmosphere between young Emile and her father was icy. He sat down at a desk and pulled a quill and a piece of parchment towards him. "You see," he said, not even looking at her. "That wasn't so bad, now, was it?"

Emile folded her arms again and looked furious at having been caught smiling in the company of the future husband that she did not want. "I won't marry him, father," she said with a voice full of conviction. I could see the tears falling, although she was trying desperately to hold them back. "I won't."

He didn't even bat an eyelid or look up from whatever he was writing. "I don't see why not, Emile. He's a promising young man, from a respectable family."

I noticed that everything he had mentioned was everything that James Swallow was not. "I can't," was all she could manage to say.

"You can," he told her. "And you will." She stood there for a moment, seemingly routed to the spot by her own rage. It took a while for her father to notice that she was still there. He looked at her and sighed in exasperation. Laying down his quill, he turned to her, "You're not still upset over that… _boy _are you?" Emile flinched and her father sighed again. "I thought I'd put an end to that nonsense."

Her bottom lip began to tremble, but I could see that she was trying her best not to crumble under her father's glare. "He… he…" she stammered.

"He has been banished," her father said sternly. "You know that. He won't come back here, Emile. You may as well just forget the boy."

"Never," Emile's voice was so quiet that it was scarcely a whisper. Then she said it again, louder. "Never. I'll… I'll…"

The fear of her father forced her back into silence. He smirked. "You'll what?" he prompted.

"I'll run away," she tried to sound defiant, but her voice came out a little bit squeaky. "I'll find him."

Her father scoffed. "Fine, by all means. You have nowhere to go, my dear."

At that Emile turned and fled from the room. Her father looked sadly after her before burying his head in his hands. My mother tugged on my hand. I glanced at her. "Come on," she said. I followed her out of the room.

"Where are we going?" I asked.

"We need to find me," she said, which is a confusing enough sentence to wrap your head around, never mind everything else that was going on. "You need to know the rest of the story."

I started worrying about how and where we would find her, but then, as I followed my mother, I realised that she would know exactly where to look because she had already been there before, She led me through her childhood house, through the reception hall the dining area and finally to the kitchens where the door to the gardens was hanging open and letting the rain in. We moved quickly into the gardens and down a long, winding path to the stables where I could hear the sound of a girl crying. Young Emile was sitting down beside a chestnut brown horse. She was clutching a saddle in her hands, but they were shaking so badly that she couldn't quite manage to fix it on. There was a moment when she just let herself become completely overwhelmed, dropping the saddle to the ground. Then she stood up, wiped her tear soaked hands on her dress and picked it up again. She slung the saddle over the horse's back and fixed it in place. She swung herself up into the saddle and rode out into the night.

My mother turned and walked quickly out into the streets of London. I followed closely behind us. The streets were sparsely populated with the few remaining Londoners who were up at this hour. It was still an eclectic mix of people even in spite of the lateness of the hour. Some of them were drunken men, whom my mother avoided. Due to my time in Tortuga, however, I was more amazed that there were people who were awake at this hour for reasons that weren't related to alcohol. Some of them seemed to have jobs to do that either entailed coming home late at night or working through the dark hours. It seemed that the whole of London city moved to accommodate us as we ran after young Emile. We travelled faster than we should have been able to, always within earshot of Emile's horse's galloping hoofs on the cobbles, but we were never fast enough to see her riding. When the noise stopped we caught up with her in a matter of minutes.

She was standing at the gate of a house on the other side of London. Her horse stood beside her, breathing heavily and desperate to cool down. She rested her hand on his nose and calmed him while she stared up at the house. It was of the same grandeur that hers had been, so I could only assume that they were of the same class. What was she doing here? She opened the gate and after tethering her horse to it, she slipped into the empty garden and round to the stables of this house. A light was flickering inside. When young Emile saw it she froze. We stood beside her and started at the same spot she was. We stood there for so long that I wasn't sure if Emile was ever going to move again.

"Why are we here?" I whispered, unable to take the suspense any longer. My mother just nodded towards the stable door and said nothing.

I continued to wait. Young Emile carried on her fixed stare, unable to tear her eyes away from the door. When it sprang open she jumped. It was James who had opened it and when he saw her standing there he stopped. I saw his eyes widen. The silence between them was long and uncomfortable to look on. I felt, more than ever, that I was intruding on a private moment between them even though they couldn't see me.

"Emile…" he whispered eventually, stepping fully out of the door and letting it shut behind him. "What are you doing here? How… how did you find me?"

Young Emile moved closer to him and tried to take his hand, but he wouldn't let her. "James," she said tearfully. "I… I had to find you. They're trying to make me marry."

"How?" he snapped. "How did you find me?"

Emile gulped. "I… I… One of the kitchen maids… she… she told me where you and your father had gone."

He took a step back from her. "Me and my father?" he repeated. She nodded. "Do you remember why we were sent away Emile? Do you remember _why _we were cast out and left without work?"

Emile blinked. "Yes… yes, I know that I-"

"Because of _you,_" he pointed an accusing finger at her. Her mouth dropped open. "Because _you _felt the need to tell your blessed father that we were in love."

"We _are,_" she protested, but her voice was shaking a little. She doubted herself and she looked terrified. Terrified of losing him. James looked away from her, but even she could see the anger in his eyes.

"Emile we lost _everything_!" he was dangerously close to raising his voice, but his furtive glances towards the house told me that he didn't want to draw any attention to what was going on from its occupants. "We lost our work, our home, the lives we had built and for _what?" _Emile had started crying, but James wasn't finished. "So that you could try and live out some childish dream we once had?"

"Was that all it was to you?" her voice rose several pitches.

"That's all it was to **anyone**, Emile!" he said, louder than he intended. I felt my mother's pain at his words. I took her hand as young Emile began to cry harde than ever. "A _dream._ It was never going to happen."

"But… but…" Emile stammered.

"But _nothing,_" he snapped. "You had nothing to lose by going to your father and announcing your grand plan. We lost _everything. __**Everything. **_Because of you. Just so that you could piss off your father."

For a moment nothing could be heard apart from Emile's sobs. James was shaking with a mixture of sadness and rage. Emile took a tiny step forward. She gulped. "I love you," she said quietly, gulped again and almost reached for his hand, before she thought the better of it. "That's why I… I didn't mean to… I didn't think that he would…" She trailed off.

"That's the trouble," he agreed. "You _don't_ think."

She looked away from him, since he was refusing to look at her. She looked around at the garden before her eyes were drawn back to him. "I'm so sorry," she said and her sadness built back up again, making her voice crack. "James I'm so sorry! You have to believe me... I would _never_… "

She was getting hysterical and her sobs were getting louder. A light went on in the house beside it. James spotted it when I did and looked immediately alarmed. Emile remained oblivious. James shushed her. "I believe you, I believe you," he said, but I wasn't sure whether it was sincere, or if he was just trying to shut her up. Young Emile was clearly thinking along the same lines as I was because her tears did not subside or quieten. James reached out and took a hold of her shoulders. "Shh… shh. You have to be quiet. Please… Emmy…"

At that, young Emile threw her arms around his neck and kissed her James as fiercely as she could. It only lasted a moment before a door opened and a voice called out into the dark, "What's going on out there?"

James immediately took hold of Emile and led her away from the stables and back to where her horse was waiting for her. "Go," he told her. "Go, now."

"No," she stayed stubbornly where she was. James looked behind them at the house, from which another shout rang out into the darkness. Someone was coming. "I ran away so that we could be together. I'm sorry for what I've done. I'll make it up to you, James. I love you and we can-"

"Emmy…" he said quietly and she stopped talking. "It's too late."

There was a silence. Young Emile frowned. "What?"

"It's too late," he said again. "I'm married."

Emile stepped away from him. "You… you're _what?_ " she looked at him in utter shock.

"I'm married," he said again and suddenly it was clear why he'd been so hard on Emile when he had seen her. This is what he had been sparing her. "It was arranged not long after we found work here. She's a nice girl. She brings in money to help look after my father. She's…." he trailed off.

"James is that you?" the strange voice called out, it was louder than it had been before. Whoever it was, was getting closer.

"You have to go now," James said urgently.

He steered her out of the garden towards her horse, but she still made no move to ride home. She looked up at him with big sad eyes. "Do you… do you love her?"

"Emmy…" he sighed. "I love you. You know that. I always will."

She nodded and he helped her onto her horse. "Are you happy?" she asked, looking down at him.

"Yes," he said. "I'm happy. I love you and I miss you, but I'm happy. And you will be too."

"James I-" Emile's last words to James were cut short as the owner of the house was upon them. James spurred Emile's horse into movement and she cantered off into the night. James turned to face whoever it was that had caught them, his employer, I presumed, as that strange fog descended around us again.

"That was the last time I saw him," my mother said quietly. I turned to look at her, glad that I still had a firm grip on her hand. "I couldn't go back, not again. I was seen that night and of course the news spread like wildfire."

I could very much sympathise with what my mother must have gone through, all the gossip she must have faced. I thought back to the way that people in Port Royal had acted around me, Will and Elizabeth when we had first returned from saving Elizabeth, the way that they had handled the Governor's daughter being engaged to a blacksmith and finally how I had been forced to hide who I was when George had tricked me into staying with him. They would also never have accepted James and Emile, no matter how in love they were. The air around us was suddenly full of whispers. Vicious words about the scandal circled us. Loudest of all were her father's words. His anger, his disappointment in her stupidity. It was painful just to listen to, but then I saw it too. The mist cleared on Emile and her father sitting, once again in the same room as Lawrence and his father. From the conversation, it was clear that what had happened had put their arranged marriage in jeopardy, although neither Lawrence or Emile said a word on the matter. The sat side by side in silence while their father's worked it out. Eventually, James looked up from where he had been staring at the floor.

"I don't care," he said. "I don't care what she has done. She is a good woman."

Underneath the table, I saw my father take my mother's hand and I smiled.

The picture before us froze on that image and my mother turned to me one last time. "I was happy," she said. "Eventually. I loved your father, although I was not _in _love with him." I nodded to show that I understood. "What I wanted to teach you here, Isabelle, was about love. It can come in many forms, my darling and although I was not with James he was always a part of my life. I've shown you the meaning behind yours and your brother's names. It's important not to forget a love you once had. Do you understand?"

"Yes," I nodded. My mother's story had shown me more than that. In it I had seen a parallel between her life and my own. James Swallow had been her equivalent of my darling Jack, but she had never had the chance to be with her James. I supposed then, that my father had been almost like George _could _have been to me, if things had panned out the way they were supposed to.

"Our time is up, darling," my mother said. "You need to get back aboard your ship and continue your journey home. Tomorrow, your father will tell his tale, but for now you need to rest." Without me realising it she had walked me back to the _Pearl_. I was glad. Thoughts of Jack were making me feel dreadfully homesick and the promise of rest gave me a hope of travelling back to see him again. As I stepped up onto the gangplank I turned back to look at her.

"Goodbye," I said the words that I'd never had a chance to as a child. "I love you, mother."

Suddenly, she grabbed my arm and looked at me intensely, "_Do not forget a love you once had," _she repeated her words from earlier. "I shouldn't be telling you this… but it's vital that you _remember_, Isabelle. Because someone here will tell you a tale to try and-"

She was cut short and began to fade away. Her eyes were wide, wild, desperate. Her lips were still moving but I couldn't make out what she was trying to tell me. And then she was gone. I stood there for a moment, staring at where she had been, before James's shouts reminded me to get back on board the _Pearl. _I looked up to see him holding Rebecca and smiled a weary and tired smile.

The fog cleared away completely and _The Black Pearl _was left sailing on still, clear waters, as she had done before. When night fell my mind was full of Jack and I prayed that sleep would bring me back to him. I worried constantly. I worried about how long it had been since I had last seen him. I worried about how my physical body was doing and whether or not I would be able to get back to it. I worried about our little boy and whether or not he was being looked after properly.

And Jack too. Jack was in need of a lot of looking after.

* * *

**Please review :) **

**Chapter 12 review replies 3 THANK YOU to everyone who reviewed **

**Sookdeo: Haha, no! The ghosts will probably go on for longer than you'd think. **

**AdaYuki: THANK YOU **** Sorry it took so long :S**

**PirateNinjaCJS: Hahaha, I'll try my best to make them longer in the future and don't worry, Jack will keep popping up from time to time. We'll be checking in on him too ;)**

**GoTeamSkipper: Thank you! And now you know what happened to him. It didn't end so well- for once Isabelle had a hunch about something that turned out to be right. Makes a change. **

**WulfLuvr12: Hahaha, yes it was indeed a lot of foreshadowing going on :P**

**Also there was a Guest review asking me a question from someone calling themselves captain jack on Dead Man's Chest, but obviously since it was unsigned I can't reply through PM. If that wasn't anyone reading this feel free to ignore it, but if that was you, then thank you ****And in answer to your question I actually came up with Izzy in a dream I had once, many years ago.**

**LOVE YOU ALL**  
**LV**  
**XX**


	14. Reflections

I lay down and stared at the ceiling. Rebecca was lying beside me, looking tiny in such a large space. It felt bigger still because I wasn't used to being in it without Jack. I wasn't used to being in his Cabin without him either. I wasn't okay with it. If I pretended hard enough I could almost imagine that he was just somewhere else on the _Pearl_, perhaps at the helm and soon he'd come in, give me that glorious smile, climb in beside me and pull me in close. I wrapped my arms around my shoulders and closed my eyes. I was cold without Jack to keep me warm and I was lonely without his voice. I knew it was silly, I'd see him soon. Hopefully. But I missed him. I missed all the little things that made me smile. I even missed the way we fought. I missed the way his kiss could push an entire world away.

I did my best not to cry.

"I need you, Jack," I whispered into an empty room, squeezing my eyelids tightly shut as a defence against the burning at the edges of them. My heart ached as if it were bruised, the drowsiness hit me and then I slept.

It seemed that I was awake again almost instantly. I opened my eyes and breathed a sigh of relief.

Jack was still alive.

And he was asleep. While this meant that this trip to see him might not be a particularly interesting for me, I didn't care in the slightest. He needed rest. I wished that he was in a comfier position, but there was little I could do about it. He was slumped against a wooden desk, his head resting on his arms. I half expected to see an empty rum bottle, but the only thing on the desk that was Jack's was his open Compass, which his head was turned towards. Beside the desk, Baby James was sleeping soundly in a crib. A candle was almost completely burned out and at the other end of the room my physical body was lying alongside Rebecca's. We'd been moved out of the room that all the other bodies had been in and placed by a waterfall. I couldn't help but wonder why. We were at the opposite end from the door, which was standing ajar and letting a small chink of light through. I smiled as I watched them sleep. My boys. Looking so peaceful for a change. I wanted nothing more than to hug them both, but seemingly that was a physical impossibility for me in this state. So I settled for stooping down to get as close as I could to each of them in turn and planting a kiss, as best I could, on each of their foreheads. Then I turned to the candle and tried to blow it out, but I didn't seem to have all that much effect on it. My breath made it flicker, but the flame refused to go out. I reached out and covered the flame with my hand. It went out instantly.

The sudden darkness made Baby James stir and Jack twitched as he stated making a noise. I ran over to James's crib as quickly as I could. "Ssshh, darling… hush," I told him quietly. "You have to be quiet or you'll wake your daddy up."

My words had the opposite effect than I wanted them to have. As I spoke Baby James's eyes opened and he smiled. He started to laugh and his father woke up, turning immediately to see if James was alright. When he heard his son laughing, but couldn't find the source he frowned. I was confused too… could James _hear_ me? Was that possible? Or could he somehow just sense that I was there? I backed away from the crib as quickly as possible in an attempt to stop James from making noises and allow them both to go back to sleep. Jack froze, his eyes on his Compass. They lit up. I heard the needle rattle and I stopped moving. "Belle," he said happily, and then a sudden urgency struck him, "Isaacio!" he shouted. "**ISAACIO!**" he bellowed urgently, standing up and clutching the Compass in on hand. His chair fell back and he didn't bother to pick it up again. He was staring at the Compass, but when Isaacio ran in he looked up. "She's here."

Jack grinned and Isaacio moved to have a look. He glanced at the Compass, up in my general direction and then back to Jack. "Would you like to see her?" he asked. Jack nodded immediately.

"More than anything, mate," he said. Isaacio nodded and strode immediately to the other end of the room, beckoning for Jack to come with him. He lit a few candles by the waterfall at the other side of the room. Then he turned to look at Jack again. "Where is she?"

Jack looked down at his Compass and then waved his hand in my general direction. He looked up, peering desperately, as if looking for me. Isaacio placed two chairs in front of the waterfall and motioned for Jack to sit in one. Jack sat down, but twisted himself round in order to continue looking in my direction. His eye carried on searching for me, even though he should have known that it was hopeless. Isaacio glanced up. "Isabelle," he said loudly. "Can you come over here for me?" I walked towards them both, wondering what on earth was going on. Jack's eyes flickered between the Compass and where it was telling him I was in the room. I went to stand over by Isaacio, who was next to the empty chair. Both of them kept their attention trained on the Compass as I moved. I stopped in front of him. There was a pause as they noticed that the needle had stopped moving. Isaacio glanced over at the waterfall. I followed his gaze and saw his smile as my jaw dropped. The waterfall was made of a shiny, silvery liquid. It was a lot like a constantly moving, ever-changing mirror. But it was one that reflected me as well as Jack and Isaacio. I could see myself. Could they see me too? I smiled, testing it and Isaacio smiled back. He indicated to the empty chair. "Take a seat, Isabelle," he said kindly. There was a pause.

I sat down. Jack was still staring directly at the space I was in, which would, to his eyes, look lie a completely empty chair. He blinked several times and then looked through me to Isaacio, "Where is she?" Isaacio's smile widened and he pointed to the waterfall. Jack frowned and then turned his head to look into the fast-moving water. His frown melted away and his mouth opened in a moment of shock. I could feel the smile spreading across my face along with a great warmth inside me. Jack's mouth split into a grin. His eyes were wide. "Is… Isabelle…" he whispered.

"Jack," I said, feeling just as breathless as he sounded. Jack glanced briefly at the chair I was sitting in and then back to the waterfall, amazed. "Hello my darling."

Jack frowned slightly, "What's she saying?" he asked. "Is she saying something? I can't hear her."

I sighed, feeling a little crestfallen. Isaacio looked slightly apologetic, "You won't be able to hear her, I'm afraid."

"Can she hear me?" Jack asked earnestly. I nodded.

"Yes," Isaacio nodded too. Jack looked back at my reflection.

"I love you, Izzy," he said and I saw him start to well up. He furiously blinked back tears. I could see his hands shaking on the arms of the chair he was sitting on. His voice cracked, "I miss you."

The look on his face tore at my heart. I hated seeing him so upset. His big, brown eyes were so lost, so sad. It hurt me to look into them, but I couldn't tear my eyes away from him. I just wanted to heal him. I looked back at him in the reflection of the water and said, "I love you," in the most over-emphasised way I possibly could, in the hope that he would catch what I was saying. I could tell by his smile that he did. Looking at him, I felt giddy, I felt like I hadn't seen him in years. I'd forgotten about the rush that just seeing him smile gave me. I hadn't seen him smile much at all recently. I'd missed it. So very much. I wished that I could tell him that, speak to him, let him know that I was missing him just as much, if not more, than he was missing me. Jack opened his mouth to say something else, but Isaacio stepped forward.

"Jack," he said seriously. "I don't know how much time we have with her. Use it well." Jack nodded, frowned slightly and closed his mouth. Isaacio stepped into view of the waterfall. "Do you know how long you have, Isabelle?" I shook my head and Isaacio nodded. "No, I didn't think you would. Now, listen, have you started your journey back here to us?"

I nodded again.

"Is it dangerous, love?" Jack asked. I didn't know how to answer him. It hadn't been so far… but I had been warned that it could be. He saw my hesitation and concern filled his eyes. I regretted thinking about it immediately. He sat up in his chair and leaned forwards. "Are you alright? Have you been hurt? Are you safe?"

I blinked at him, trying to thing about how best to answer this question, given that he couldn't hear me. So, I resorted to nodding, then shaking my head and then nodding again- yes I was alright, no I haven't been hurt and yes I'm safe.

Jack just looked baffled. "What's that supposed to mean, love?" he asked. I sighed and wasn't really too sure how to proceed. Luckily, Isaacio stepped in again.

"Is someone guiding you?" he asked me. I nodded. "That's good. How many people have you met on your journey?" I thought of my mother and held up one finger. Isaacio nodded. "One. I thought so. Has anyone explained what's happening with your physical body?"

I gestured to show that I sort of knew what he was talking about.

"Well I bloody don't!" Jack's concern had not vanished in the slightest, but rather it had intensified to a rather unsettling stage of alarm. "Will someone _please _explain what is going on?!"

"Well," Isaacio began, ignoring Jack's panic and looking directly at me. "When Jack told me that you had been here and visited him I told him that there was a chance that you could come back. Do you know this?" I nodded and beside me, relief flooded Jack. "Now that we know that you are in a state of deep sleep, we can take care of your body in this world. If we hadn't known then you'd only have had about a week before the condition of your physical body would deteriorate and you wouldn't be able to come back. If your physical body dies here, that's it. You'll know it's happened, if it does."

Jack tore his eyes away from me for a moment to look at Isaacio. I saw that his hands were beginning to shake. "But that won't happen. We'll keep it alive, won't we?" he said desperately. "And then she'll be fine. We'll just stop her body from dying properly and she'll be fine." There was a short silence. "She'll be fine," he repeated to himself.

Isaacio glanced at me. I raised my eyebrows, prompting him to tell Jack exactly what the situation was, so that if it all went wrong, he would know why. And then he might be a bit less angry about it. He'd be prepared. And that could be a good thing. If he knew now that there was a chance that I wouldn't make it back to him, he might be able to start the process of dealing with that now, which would make it less brutal, should the worst happen… Isaacio saw the look in my eyes and stepped forwards. "I certainly hope she will be, Jack," he said sincerely. "But there's no guarantee. Isabelle has a long, long journey ahead of her and there's a very tight timescale for it." Jack looked worried. Isaacio rested a hand on Jack's shoulder in an attempt to offer him some comfort. "We'll do what we can."

Jack nodded, but said nothing. He didn't look at either of us. "She'll be fine," he said again and I worried that this was a lost cause. I wasn't sure how much warning Jack would need to be alright with the idea that he would never see me again. Isaacio sighed, clearly sharing my concern. I was glad that he was there to keep an eye on Jack, but I knew that it would take a lot for Jack to listen to him. If there's something Jack wants, he'll do his utmost to get it.

My eyes met with Isaacio's and we shared in a moment of slight despair before he carried on trying to express the severity of the situation to Jack. "I _hope _she will be," he said again. "But, Jack, listen to me. This is a very fragile situation. _She _is very fragile," he emphasize, glancing at where my body was lying. Jack's knuckles turned white as he tried to stop his hands from shaking. He looked down at my body and then back at me, biting down on his trembling lip. I knew then that he was trying to stop himself from crying in front of Isaacio. Isaacio softened his tone. Jack wouldn't like that. "We can keep her alive for as long as we can, but the longer that she is away from her physical body, the weaker she will be. My people and I… we have ways of keeping her alive longer than would be possible where you are from, but you need to understand the risks involved for her."

Jack nodded. His voice was quiet, husky, "I understand."

He didn't say anything else. He didn't even look up. Isaacio looked to me. "Isabelle," he addressed me directly. I sat up a bit. "I don't know exactly what you'll face to get home, but our legends say that you could be trapped there. Something could trick you into staying and you need to be on the lookout for that." I frowned. I couldn't think of anything that would make me chose death over coming home. "There is powerful Magic there. Do you understand?" Isaacio asked. I nodded. "Good. If you do get back to us, we will be able to revive you with waters from the Fountain of Youth."

"The Fountain can help her?" Jack asked. Isaacio nodded. I was immediately concerned.

"Yes. It can."

"Will… will that make her immortal?" Jack was sharing my concern, largely because he already knew of my reservations regarding immortality. He would know that if it made me immortal I wouldn't want to do it. Unless everyone I loved could drink from the Fountain too. I would not spend eternity alone. I would far rather have a short life, full of love, than a long one lived out in solitude. There is very little happiness to be found in solitude.

Isaacio was smiling and I wasn't sure what to read into that. "No. It will not." I breathed a sigh of relief. "It was a common rumour that drinking from our Fountain would make the drinker immortal, but, as is the case with all interesting rumours, it is a false one. The waters from the Fountain of Youth don't have the power to make someone live forever, but rather to turn back the body clock and revive the soul." I suddenly remembered Nyssa and the first conversation that she'd had with me. That was how the people of Atlantis had kept alive long enough to protect their City- they had reached a certain age physically and then used the Fountain of Youth to become children again. But Nyssa didn't have the mentality of a child, that hadn't reverted back when she'd taken a drink. I panicked. I couldn't be a _child _again… How could I possibly go back to that? "If we give Isabelle a drink from it, it will turn her organs back to exactly the way they were before she died. Her gunshot wound will disappear and her heart will start to beat regularly again. Everything will work as it should. That's why it's called the Fountain of _Youth, _it doesn't make you live forever. It makes your body younger."

"Wait…" Jack frowned, clearly struggling with the same aspect of it that I was. "How much younger?"

Isaacio smiled. "Don't worry," he said. "If we just give her drop, it will only knock her back about a week or two and she will continue to age as she would have from that point on. You won't notice anything."

There was a moment of relief before Jack started to flare up again. "Well if it's that simple why don't we just give her a drop _now?_ Why are we wasting all this time?"

"The Fountain of Youth also has an effect on the soul. Her soul needs to be here for the waters to be able to bind it back to her body," Isaacio explained.

"But she's here right now!" Jack protested. "What are you waiting for?"

I was amazed that Isaacio had enough patience to deal with Jack when he was like this. I was even more amazed that he could keep smiling reassuringly at him when. "It's not the right time, Jack," he said. "Each stage of Isabelle's journey is bringing her closer to our world. The closer she gets the stronger her presence will be when she visits us. Last time she was here, you wouldn't have been able to see her for long. Even if you had been looking into the Waters of Mortuis. We have to wait until she close enough to our world and strong enough to deal with it." There was a silence. Jack wasn't saying anything and I couldn't say anything that would be heard. Isaacio smiled at us both. "Well, that's all I have to say. I'll leave you both in peace."

Jack said nothing. I smiled and waved my goodbye to Isaacio. He turned to leave, but before he reached the door Jack stood up so violently that he knocked his chair back. Isaacio didn't seem startled, he never did, but he turned calmly to face my husband. Tremors were running through his body from head to toe. Until now I had thought that it was withheld anger that was making him shake, but when I heard him speak and saw the look in his eyes I realised it was a fear that he was doing his best to disguise. "Is there anything I can do… to help her?"

Isaacio shook his head. "This is her journey. The living cannot interfere with the dead. All you can do is wait and hope. Hope can do wonderful things."

Jack's body seemed to crumple in defeat. I just wanted to hold him. After a brief silence Isaacio left. Jack pulled his chair back up and sat down. His knuckles, on the arms of his chair, turned white again. Keeping my eyes locked on his face in the reflection, I reached out towards his hand. I did my best to place mine on top of his. After a moment he stopped shaking. He looked up and our eyes met in the reflection. He slowly turned his hand so that it was palm-up and I gently slotted my fingers in the gaps between his. I couldn't completely feel his hand in the way that I would have normally, but I could feel the heat and the shape of it. I couldn't take it properly, there was a thin barrier between us. For me, it was like holding your hand over a naked flame. I physically couldn't get my hand any closer to his without the heat searing my palm, but I did my best. Jack laughed as tears fell from his eyes. "I can feel that, love," he said. "I can feel it."

I smiled back and felt my own eyes fill with tears. We were literally worlds apart- torn apart by death, there was a chance that I would never see him again, but here we were, sitting side by side _almost_ holding hands. I looked down at where our fingers almost entwined. I knew then that I would get home. Love can do impossible things… Jack and I were proof of that. But it can't do impossible things all by itself. If death wanted to part us, it could try, but I wasn't going to give up without a fight. I looked back up at Jack and we both smiled. All of the anger and fear were gone from his eyes. "Belle," he whispered. "You can do this, darlin'. You're the most stubborn person I know. Death can't get you."

I gave him a look.

"Don't look at me like that, love," he grinned. "You're far more stubborn than I am."

"Hardly!" I said, rolling my eyes. He couldn't hear me, but understood perfectly well what I'd said. We both laughed. I felt myself starting to fade from his world.

"Hurry home, love," he said and I was gone.

* * *

**Hello **** Thanks for reading! Hope you all had a great holiday and New Year :D  
**

**Review replies for Chapter 13:**

**PirateNinjaCJS- THANKS, MERRY (LATE) CHRISTMAS TO YOU TOO! Yeah, I actually dreamt that it was Izzy who fell from Port Royal's Battlements in CoBP, which is why it's her that happens to in my versions and not Elizabeth. In the dream everyone made it very clear she was James's sister and everything sort of sprang from there really.**

**GoTeamSkipper- Thank you and thanks for reviewing. **** I'm glad that you're enjoying the chapters that aren't so centred on Jack and Izzy. You wonder a lot of things, none of which I am willing to divulge right now :P**

**AdaYuki- Thank you for reviewing, that made MY day. So we're even :P**

**Sookdeo- Thank you :D Her father's story is coming up soon. And I'm glad you like the ghost's stories. **

**DelphineDrewIngle- Haha, I also often wonder where Isabelle is when I'm watching Pirates. And then I remember that she's all in my head. Thank you very much, I'm glad you've enjoyed them! Although, sorry for making you cry. You don't look like a creepy person, so don't worry **** Your English is good, what's your first language?**

**Please review.**

**LVxx**


	15. A Father's Tale

Light streamed in through the window of the Cabin. I opened my eyes slowly and looked at where Rebecca was still sleeping peacefully. I was amazed that she hadn't stirred all night. She hadn't made a sound and, as far as I was aware, had slept soundly beside me through the night. All in all, Rebecca was seemingly a ridiculously well behaved new-born. Should I be worried about that? Is it normal? I reasoned that it was maybe because she was dead that she didn't need anything. I watched her sleeping and wondered whether she could travel like I did and if she could then I wondered where she went. Was she there now? I wrapped my arms around her, but I did it gently, trying not to wake her up. I failed and she stirred immediately at my touch, but she didn't start crying. She seemed quite happy to see me and happy to be awake. I smiled back at her and held her close to me. She really was the best little girl in the whole word, perhaps unusually so, but nothing about the situation we were in could be deemed as 'usual'.

"When we get back," I said quietly to her with a smile on my face. "I'm sure you'll be just as loud and noisy and annoying as your father is." She grabbed my finger and squeezed it. My smile widened. She was perfect. She was truly perfect. And so was this moment. Well… almost. All it needed, and all I wanted, was for my family to be together in one place. Alive and well. I looked up at the door and the light that was shining through it. It looked slightly brighter than I thought it perhaps usually did, but I didn't dwell on it. It signalled that it was time to get up and get home. I picked up Rebecca and made my way to the door. I wondered where James had decided to sleep and if he was awake yet.

I opened the door and stepped out, but I didn't step out onto the deck of the _Pearl. _When the door opened there was another room behind it. It was one I recognised… sort of. It looked a lot like the drawing room in the house I had grown up in… although not quite. The chairs around the room were made from the same dark wood and red velvet, but they were in different positions than I remembered. The curtains looked to be cut from the same cloth, but they were open and tied back, so I couldn't really tell with complete certainty. The fireplace was exactly the same as it had always been, with the beautifully painted portrait of my great, great, great Grandfather in a golden frame hanging above it. I looked into his painted eyes. Eyes that were not dissimilar to mine. There's something about the way the painted, soulless eyes of a portrait follow everyone in the whole room that's always made me shudder. But not this time. This time when I saw that familiar image I welled up with a sense of family and familiarity. I hadn't seen that portrait in years. James and I had taken it to Port Royal with us, obviously, but we hadn't given it such a prominent place in our new household, choosing instead to favour the images of our mother and father and relatives we'd known. I'd obviously never met my great, great, great Grandfather, but it was nice to see that familiar stranger again. It brought back a sense of home that I hadn't felt for a long time in association with any place on land.

It almost made me miss it.

I blinked away tears.

What was wrong with me?

I turned to look behind me at the Cabin and the _Pearl, _my real home, but theyhad vanished without a trace, to be replaced by a wall with a door on the far right. The door was closed and I doubted very much that I could open it. I immediately panicked. "James!" I shouted for his help, because it was the only thing I could think to do in this situation. Was he still here? I called for him again, louder than before. "James!"

The door opened and a small figure ran through. My jaw dropped. It was James… a young, child version of my brother. He stopped in the middle of the room and looked around with a small frown on his face. His eyes landed fleetingly on the portrait of our great, great, great Grandfather. I smiled when I saw a shudder run through him and knew he also had the childish fear that painted eyes could somehow spy on non-painted people. His eyes seemed to scan the room as if looking for something. "Papa!" he shouted. "Papa!"

Within a few moments my father appeared in the doorway. His faced was flushed and sweaty with stress. James didn't seem to register this. "James," our father snapped and my brother realised his bad mood. He looked immediately fearful. "What are you doing in here?"

"Someone said 'James'," my brother replied. "Twice." When my father didn't respond he pointed to himself. "I'm James."

Father, even in his time of whatever stress he was under couldn't help but smile at his son. He bent down to his level. "I know. But there's nobody in here."

"I hearded it!" James insisted. Father glanced around the room before looking back at James. James's wasn't willing to admit defeat, no matter what the situation might look like (a trait that he had carried with him into adulthood).

"I never called for you, James," my father said. "And I wasn't in here. Maybe it was your imagination."

I doubted this. James had never been the most imaginative.

"No," James obviously agreed with me. "It wasn't my imadin… imagdin… madgnation…." His screwed up his small face in concentration. It was such a big word for a tiny boy.

"Imagination," father said helpfully.

"Yeah," James agreed. "It was a woman. Maybe Mamma?"

Father sighed and started looking stressed again. "James… you know it's not Mamma," he said seriously. "You know where Mamma is."

James nodded, "The doctor's helping Mamma pick a baby."

He didn't look too happy about it. Father sat down and pulled James onto his knee, hugging him close. "That's right," he said. "He _is. _And it's going to be a very special baby."

When he heard this, James started to look a little sulky, "I don't want it. Tell Mamma to take it back."

Father laughed and James tried to wriggle free of his embrace. "Do you know why it's going to be such a special baby?" Father asked James. James shook his head and father continued, "Because that baby upstairs is going to have _you _as his or her big brother."

James perked up at the sound of that. "What does that mean?" he asked, looking a little more interested than he had previously.

"It means," my father said. "That you have a big job ahead of you."

"I do?" James's tiny chest puffed up a bit with importance. My dad nodded.

"Oh yes, a very big and important one," he said seriously and James looked even more excited at the prospect. I saw my father smile at his son's imagined importance. He said nothing else, letting James's curiosity build and build and build until I thought that James might actually explode in anticipation.

"What is it?" James asked. "Dadda, what is it?"

Our father squeezed his sun closer to his chest. "There's going to be a tiny little person here and-"

"Smaller than me?" James butted in.

Our father nodded. "Yes," he said. "Much smaller than you are. And you're going to need to take very good care of them." James's smile faltered a little and he looked a bit less pleased about everything.

"Why?" he snapped.

"Because that's your job. And they'll be too young to take care of themselves," our father was fighting a losing battle, I could see the resentment in James's face over this mysterious other person that would soon be in his life.

"Well I don't want to," he huffed.

Our father soldiered on. "But _you're _their big brother and he or she will look up to you because you're the oldest." James said nothing for a very long time. Father looked apprehensive, but let him sit in silence for a moment before he bent his head to look directly at his son. "Okay?" he asked.

James sighed. "Yeah," he said, but there was still a small and perplexed frown on his little face. "Papa…" there was a slight pause. "Does that mean that I'll be in charge?" he asked. I laughed at how excited he was by that prospect. Being 'in charge' was clearly something that had always appealed to him. Even at this young age. Our father laughed too.

"Yes, yes you will be in charge."

James brightened almost immediately, but it wasn't long before it faltered again. "No, Papa. I still don't want the baby. Tell Mama not to get it." I could tell that my father was getting agitated with James's sudden change in mood after he'd thought he was winning. James, however, didn't notice this and was keen to move on from all this talk of a strange new baby. "Can we play a game now?"

Father sighed. "No, James," he said shortly.

"Why?" James whined. "You never play with me. Nobody does. It's not fair."

I saw father's eyes widen at the window of opportunity he'd spotted. "Do you know who will play with you?" he asked. James shook his head. "The baby."

James's eyes sparkled with excitement. "Really?" his voice squeaked. Father smiled and nodded.

"Yes, all the time," he said. "You can keep each other company."

James wriggled free of our father's grasp and jumped to his feet. "Can we go and get the baby now, Papa? Can we?" He started to tug on father's sleeve in an effort to pull him to his feet. Father laughed at James's sudden change in mood and looked relieved that he was now more enthusiastic about the arrival of another child. I, on the other hand, was far more apprehensive about it. James, as I could see him standing in front of my now looked to be no more than four years old, but James was eight years my senior. There was no sibling between us. So who, exactly was being born at that moment? My mind raced with possibilities built on the information I already know. I immediately thought of my mother's story and her doomed love for her childhood sweetheart, James. Had she had an affair with him? Was the child being born at that current moment his? Did I have a half-sibling I wasn't aware of? And if so, _why _wasn't I aware of him or her? Perhaps my father had found out the real parentage of the illegitimate child and cast the child out. I felt a sudden wave of empathy for the possible half-sibling that I had never known. Maybe when I got back I could try and track them down. Where are they now?

I watched with interest as the four year old version of my brother and our weary father hurriedly left the room to go in search of our mother and this mysterious new arrival. I went to follow them, not knowing what else to do or why I was here. I followed the sound of their footsteps to the upstairs floors. The house seemed a little bit too quiet for someone to be giving birth in it, but perhaps it was all over. Neither James nor my father registered the odd quietness or thought anything of it… but men are never that intuitive when it comes to these things. They stopped outside a door that I recognised, but had never actually been through. I had always been told that it was nothing more than a cupboard that contained some of my father's things that I wasn't allowed to look at or touch because they were dangerous. It had always been locked, but I had never thought anything of it. It was just one of those rules that as a child you obey out of habit. Then the screaming started from inside it.

I was startled as it broke the silence, but no sooner had it started than it stopped. It took me a moment to realise that it wasn't just the screaming that had stopped, but everything around me. James and my father had frozen in front of me, both staring in shock at the door. I could tell within a few seconds that it wasn't shock that had frozen them, but they were genuinely frozen in time. Why? I looked around me to see if anything else was moving.

"Isabelle," I heard my father's voice and I looked to him. He was still frozen, his face unmoving. "Isabelle." The voice said again and I realised that it wasn't coming from the younger version of my father, but would be coming from the dead version of him, wherever he may be. I turned around and saw him walking towards me with open arms. I ran into them and hugged him tightly. He hadn't hugged me like that since I had been a very, very young child. As much as my father loved us, he wasn't prone to showing his affection physically once James and I had passed a certain age. In his eyes, it just wasn't proper. He believed that children needed a firm, loving hand and strong guidance. It was nice just to be held by my father again.

"Papa," I said quietly.

"Oh my little girl," he held me at arm's length in exactly the same way that my mother had. "How you've grown."

I smiled at the kindly look in his eyes. He looked exactly as I remembered him, but his temperament reminded me more of the way he had been when I was much, much younger. He had been more relaxed with us and more openly affectionate. As we'd grown up he'd been harder on the ways that he thought that we _should _be behaving, rather than paying attention to who we were as people. He'd been away a lot, so maybe he had just missed taking note of the kind of people we were. That wasn't really his fault, he was looking at our futures and making sure that they were successful ones, which wasn't necessarily a _bad _thing. It had just felt a little detached from us at times.

"It's good to see you," I said truthfully, even if I felt a little bit awkward around him. Largely because I didn't want to know what he would think of my life now and how far I had sailed from his envisioned path.

"You've seen your mother already, I presume?" he asked. I nodded. I didn't know whether I should tell him what I learnt with her or if it was my mother's secret. I kept quiet, just in case. He looked at the frozen image of himself and young James. "We have things to teach you, Isabelle. I don't know why it's this part of our lives that you need to see, but here we are."

He didn't say anything else before the two people in front of us unfroze and so did the screaming from inside the room. I saw young James look frightened, while my father's past self looked immediately worried. I looked at him now, he was watching the scene unfold in front of him with sadness in his eyes. My stomach knotted with dread over what I was about to see and my head was filled with bad omens. It didn't sound like whoever was inside the room was screaming in pain; it sounded more as if it came from a place of deep grief. I didn't sound like labour pains. My father rapped his knuckles against the door. It was opened almost immediately by our family doctor. I only had to look at his face to know _exactly _what had happened. He was giving my younger father exactly the same look that Isaacio had given me before I died. My father hadn't yet worked it out yet, but I knew exactly what was coming.

The woman screaming was my mother. Her baby was dead. My heart ached for both of my parents.

"I'm sorry," our doctor said in the most predictable way possible, stepping aside to let my father rushed immediately into the room to see his wife, still completely unaware of exactly what the situation was. Caught up in everything, I dashed forward with him. There was a huge lump caught in my throat, formed by concern for my mother. Even though I knew that she would eventually get through this alright, I was still incredibly worried about her. This would crush her, I knew it would. The very same thing had crushed me until I had seen Rebecca safely in my arms. By the time I had entered my father was already by my mother's side, holding her as she sobbed into his chest. He looked around him in wild confusion, clearly still unsure of what was going on. "What's wrong?" he shouted to the doctor before he looked back to his wife, "What's wrong?"

He looked desperate and lost. It was the same look that I had seen in Jack's eyes when we had been in the very same situation. They had both held fear, confusion and a pain he hadn't quite felt the full force of yet. But my mother was feeling it. All of it. Blood soaked the sheets she lay in.

"I'm sorry," the doctor said again. "But we lost the baby. He was a stillborn."

My mother screamed again and my father collapsed into her arms. "No," he moaned, burying his face in his wife's hair. The nurse in the room turned around with the tiny, lifeless body of the sibling I never knew swaddled in a blanket. She laid him down at the foot of the bed and bowed her head respectfully.

"We'll leave you alone with your thoughts for a moment," the doctor said quietly. My father gathered himself enough to nod his thanks. "When you're both ready we'll be outside." The doctor and the nurse stepped out of the room to leave my parents to their grief. I looked to see how this was affecting my father in his present state. He was looking at the image of his younger self and his wife with tears glistening in his eyes. While he had clearly managed to heal himself and pull himself back from the turmoil that had been this part of his life, the memory of it had never left him. It was something he'd carried with him for the rest of his life. And after it, it would seem.

"I… uh," my father cleared his throat and blinked away the grief. "I'm not sure why you have to see this, but… there you have it; your mother had a miscarriage."

I could see him trembling and simultaneously trying to hold himself together. I put an arm around him, tentatively. I had never been in that position before. Comforting my _father _of all people… it was awkward new territory for me to be in. Awkward for him too, it would seem. He looked at me in surprise, but after a slight hesitation he leaned towards me and hugged me back. "I'm sorry," I whispered past the lump in my throat. "I never knew."

"We never told you," my father said, looking back to his younger self. "You were so young. We shielded you from it."

In the painful chaos that was surrounding the room, nobody noticed young James standing there. His young mind couldn't take in what was happening, he didn't understand what was going on, but he knew that whatever it was, it was bad. He looked at his grieving parents in bewilderment. "Mama?" he said, looking so lost that it broke my heart a little bit to see him like that. "Mama, what's wrong?" His voice was so quiet and small that he wasn't heard in such a big room. When his mother didn't respond to him because she was so wrapped up in her grief, James glanced at his father. "Papa? What's happened? Papa?"

His eyes fell on the body on the bed that seemed to be causing all this upset. I watched on with tears in my eyes as he took in what he saw and tried to wake up the baby that he presumed to be sleeping. It didn't take him long to realise that there was something incredibly wrong with the baby on the bed. James started to cry, he was so traumatised that he couldn't even make a sound. His tears fell silently down his cheeks and he started to shake violently. After a moment my father looked up and saw that his son was in the room. He moved immediately to pick him up and move him away from the stillborn as my mother sank down to sob into her pillow. My father tried to gather himself together enough to speak to his son, but James got there first. "Is the baby dead?" he asked.

My father nodded, almost crumbling into misery again. "Yes… yes I'm afraid he is."

"I'm sorry Papa," James said sadly, which took my young father by surprise as much as it did me.

"Sorry?" my father repeated. "What for, James?"

"For not looking after him," James replied. Then his little face became even sadder and he burst into tears. "It's all my fault," he wailed. My father hugged his son close to him.

"No, no, no, it's not your fault," my father said hurriedly. Both of them were still crying. "James you have nothing to be sorry for. This is nobody's fault."

James was not consoled in the slightest. "I didn't look after him," he said adamantly. "That was my job and I didn't do it."

My father was crying too much to respond. All he could do was shake his head. I wanted to hug James more than anything. My poor brother. My brilliant older brother. No wonder he had been so protective of me.

I wiped the tears from my own eyes as the scene in front of me began to fade. My father looked at me. "I don't know why you had to see that," he said, seemingly angry that I had seen him in a spot of weakness and seen into this secret family pain that had previously been hidden from me. "I don't understand how this will help you in any way."

I looked at the dead child and thought of Rebecca. She was a child I'd lost, but she was with me. I could hold her and interact with her. I knew her well.

Perhaps the child I'd really lost was Baby James. Perhaps this was to help me deal with losing my son if I never got back.

No. We would get back. We had to.

Grief rips people apart. And I couldn't let that happen.

* * *

**Thanks for reading guys, leave a review :)**

**AdaYuki: THANK YOU! Sorry it took so long :(**

**Sookdeo: Thanks, I'm glad you liked it :) It's interesting that you can see it like a movie in your head, that's quite cool :D**

**DelphineDrewIngle: Oooh, French, that's cool. I'm glad you like the ghosts stories, I hope you liked this one too.**

**WulfLuvr22: DON'T CRY, HOLD IT TOGETHER.**

**GoTeamSkipper: Thanks for spelling out the noise you made... I tried to replicate it, now I look crazy. You can wonder all you like, but I'll never let you know if your right or not because I'm annoying that way ;)**

**lilylilyfairfax: Thank you :) Sorry I took a while**


	16. A Father's Lesson

I didn't know how to handle everything I had just learnt and seen. I didn't know how to process it. It was difficult to see my family going through something that I knew from personal experience was horrendously difficult and heart wrenchingly painful. It made me appreciate how lucky I was to have the opportunity to change my situation and make sure that this turmoil wasn't a permanent thing for any of my own family. That relief didn't make it any easier to deal with what I saw my parents going through. I didn't know how to deal with it and neither did they. I watched my father scramble to hold them all together, but he was struggling. My mother lay in the darkness for days, while he did all he could for her to lift her out of her mood. Even though I knew that she'd be fine in the end, I still worried about her from a distance. It was a horrific situation to be in, I knew that, and it wasn't any easier to see someone you loved going through it. I wished that I had been there, physically, to help them both. She stopped eating, she stopped talking and she never seemed to sleep. All of this soon took its toll on her and she fell into a fever. Worry and grief kept my father up at night and business kept him away during the day. The doctor was called and our household staff were all told to focus their efforts towards my mother. They were quiet around her, respectful of my parent's privacy and some of them even seemed genuinely moved by what had happened.

For a while my mother was completely resistant to these efforts. She just lay there, staring into nothing. People left food for her that soon went cold. They tried to talk to her- either to talk her through it, or cheer her up. But she did nothing. Various people came and went and her mood did not change. It wasn't as if she was ignoring all them. She wasn't being ungrateful. It was more as if they didn't register with her, as if all those people weren't even there. Perhaps it was more as if _she _wasn't there. She lay there, seemingly nothing but a hollow, empty shell of her former self for days, weeks, months even. The stress got to my father and I could see him getting ill as well. I don't know how he did it, but he forced himself on. I admired his strength, but I didn't know how long he'd be able to keep it up. The cracks had formed, were deep-set and they were more than showing.

Condolences and support flooded in for my parents. There were those who came to visit just so that they could have something to talk about with other people, some gossip to spread, but there were many who came with good intentions. They helped when they could and left whatever they thought might have been of use to my grieving parents. There wasn't much that anyone could do to help, but it wasn't for lack of trying. The support was there for my parents if they needed it, but there was someone who was tangled up in all of this and needed more support than he was getting. One tiny, little person I saw going unnoticed and completely overlooked.

James.

He was so confused. So thoroughly _lost _in all of this. He didn't know what to do with himself. He understood what was wrong and why his parents were acting in the way they were, but he didn't understand that it was out of his control. He kept trying to fix it and make it better. He wasn't used to the way that our parents were behaving and he didn't like it. Every day he would try and get in to my mother's room to see her, but every day he never got as far as the doorway when my father blocked him. "Not now, James," my father would say. James would stare at where our mother was lying before our father ushered him out of the room.

"But I want to see Mama," James would say in a small, plaintive voice. Our father was always too tired to do anything but shut the door. James would sit on the other side of it for hours with his knees tucked up under his chin. Sometimes there would be nothing but silence. Other times he could hear our mother crying. When that happened James stuffed his finger in his ears and started to cry himself. But he never moved from our mother's door until someone, usually a maid, would physically remove him from where he was sitting and put him to bed. It broke my heart to see him like that. I sat down beside him, wishing I could do something to help my poor brother.

The ghost of our father sat down beside me, looking pained. I saw his eyes fill with sorrow at the sight of his son in that state. "Poor James," I said quietly. I wanted to hug him. "Poor boy."

"I had no idea," my dad whispered. I suddenly felt angry with him for the state my brother was in.

"_How?_" I asked. "How could you not see _this?_" I gestured to where my brother sat sobbing on the floor. Alone and scared. He was terrified because his family were changing, different, falling apart. He was scared that he would never get his parents back and above all he was terrified that it was _his _fault. It hurt me to see it because I knew that everything James had ever done had been for what he deemed to be the good of our family. It may have been misguided and he may not have made all the right choices, but James had always fought to keep us both safe. He had frustrated me, angered me and made me feel trapped in my own life. I had never been able to make my own decisions, but I had never once thought that James was doing what he did out of anything other than his protective nature. He'd wanted me to be safe and live comfortably, his only mistake had been overlooking my happiness in the pursuit of everything else. I understood why now. I understood why he was so protective of me and I loved him for it. I loved him so much. I had always loved him, but now I felt bad about all the times I had fought with him. All I wanted to do was hug him. I almost started crying myself.

"Isabelle…" father said quietly, looking sorry for himself. "I couldn't… I couldn't do everything. I tried. I couldn't always be here. Work was…" He took a deep breath. "It was a hard time for me. For all of us."

"I know," I whispered, worried that if I spoke above a whisper I would also start crying.

"I can't believe I never thought of James," my father's voice had also dropped to a whisper. "I cannot believe I let him get like this. My poor boy." I couldn't tell which of his boys he was grieving for now. I took his hand. "Your mother… she took it hard. She took it _so_ hard and I had to keep this family afloat. I had to make sure that she and James could keep living the way we did. I couldn't just _stop _what I was doing. And your mother… your mother… she was so-"

The lump in his throat stopped him from talking anymore. He hid his face in his hands. I watched his shoulders shake and all of my previous anger disappeared. I reached out slowly to put my arm around his shoulders. "You did what you could," I assured him. "You did what you had to." I'd been too hard on him in my anger over my brother's emotional needs being neglected. I'd forgotten that my father was suffering too. "You lost him too," I said, almost in tears. "He was your son too."

My father gave in and leaned towards me. I hugged him tight, trying to assure him that it was alright for him to cry. He needed to be looked after too. James wasn't the only one being neglected. "Yes," he nodded, wiping his tears away. "I did."

The door that we were all sitting against opened and James scrambled to his feet. I could hear the doctor's dulcet tones in conversation with my younger father. The doctor lingered, leaving the door ajar. James slipped through and my father and I followed. The room was dark, dingy, depressing. It was light outside, but the curtains had only been left slightly open. My mother lay in bed, as she always did, staring blankly at the wall. James ducked under the legs of the other two men and made his way over to her.

"Mama," he said quietly, coming to a stop in front of her. My mother didn't even blink. "Mama," James said again, quietly. His wide, frightened eyes were fixed on her. "Mama please!"

My father had noticed that his son was in the room and sprang out of conversation with the doctor. "James!" he shouted and the ghost of my father winced at the harsh sound. James jumped in fright and his fear was immediately heightened.

"Mama!" he screamed. Our father stooped to scoop him up. James kicked out, stretching out for our mother. He managed to grab her hand before our father ripped him away from his wife. "**Mama please!**"

He was carried off towards the door, kicking and screaming as they went. Suddenly, my mother sat up and looked towards where her son and her husband were near the door. "James!" she called, her voice was hoarse from lack of use, but he heard it. James stopped screaming and my father stopped walking. Slowly he turned to look at her and James slid out of his grasp. He ran to where my mother had held out her arms for him. She hugged him close to her and closed her eyes.

"Hello my darling," she said.

"Mama," he said happily. "What's wrong, Mama? Where were you?"

"I'm here now," she said, as my father wrapped my arms around them both. "I'm here now."

I smiled at what I saw. My mother was a long, long way from recovering. My whole family were, but it was a start.

"It took her a while to get back to normality," the ghost of my father said as the scene in front of us changed. It was replaced by one of my mother sitting up in bad and my father standing in front of her.

"Emile," he sounded exhauster. "You need to get up."

She shook her head. "No."

"Emile!" he snapped. "Move."

She frowned. "Move what, Lawrence? Move _on?_ How can I move on? My son is _dead. _He never even had a chance at life and he is _dead. _I will not move on from that."

My father was furious, I could see his face getting red. "Sitting here, wasting your days isn't going to change that Emile! You can't go back. You can't alter anything, so you might as well **get up.**"

"You don't understand," she moaned quietly, piteously, to herself as she buried her face into a pillow. At that my father turned away, slammed his fist into the wall. My mother jumped and began to cry again. I wanted to shake her and remind her that she wasn't the only one in pain.

"Don't understand?" he repeated. "You think I don't _care _that our son is dead, Emile?! Because what _you_ don't seem to understand is that he was _our _son. _**Ours. **_I lost him too." He made to storm out, echoing the very words I had said to his ghost only moments before. He turned in the doorway. "And we have another one," he said. "James. And he is alive and well and he needs his mother. Or does he not matter to you anymore?" My mother didn't answer, but her crying had either stopped or gotten quieter. The silence hung in the air. My father regained his composure in that classic upper-class British way that could not be healthy. His voice levelled out. "You're getting up. We will not be having this conversation again, Emile."

The door slammed shut and the silence in the room seemed heavier than normal. After a moment my mother sat up and looked at the door. She sat up. Within half an hour she'd got up, left the room and walked into the nursery where my father was sitting with little James. When my father saw this he looked surprised, she did not look at him and no smiles were exchanged. My father went silently to lock the room. I knew it would never be opened again. The painful memories were locked away with it and my parents re-located to another part of the house and to a room which I recognised to be the one I remembered them having.

"It took us even longer to recover as a family," the ghost of my father said quietly as everything around us seemed to speed up. I watched James grow up and my mother regain her strength. My father was seldom there. Then everything stopped and the ghost of my father and I were left standing in an empty hallway. I looked at him for guidance as to what was going on. He looked happier now. "And then you came along."

Right on cue, I heard the sound of a baby crying. I realised that baby was me and I felt incredibly odd. Then I heard footsteps and eight year old James came running through the house at full speed. Another set of feet followed him and my cousin, Fitzwilliam, ran in after him. The two boys were roughly the same age. James heard my cries and stopped. "We need to go and see my sister," he said.

Fitz frowned, "Why?"

"Because she's crying," James said simply and ran off. Fitzwilliam hesitated for a moment before following suit. They ran to the Nursery, where my mother was cradling a tiny, tiny baby I could only assume was me. I couldn't have been more than a few days old. My mother looked exhausted. James approached them both slowly.

"Can I hold her?" he asked. My mother laughed and nodded. James held out his hands and took me from my mother. He looked at Fitz. "You have to be careful. She's very small." He was showing off his big-brother knowledge to Fitz. "She can't talk yet, but one day she will."

Amazingly, I'd stopped crying in his arms. James was smiling down at me. Fitz stepped forwards. "Can I have a go?"

James looked almost offended by the very idea. "No."

I laughed, recognising his tone from the many, many times he'd said it to me. Fitz stepped back again, looking sulky. "What's her name?" he asked.

"Isabelle," my brother said and I watched my mother smile. It was a smile that none of us had seen in a while. I saw that James noticed it and his own smile widened.

The scene froze and my father stepped forwards. "Well," he said, sighing happily at the sight of his family. "That's it. I've taught you about your birth, but what I wanted you to learn, darling, was about loss. Remember, please that it affects everyone. Lives are changed, things are broken, people are broken, but they do heal. In time. In time happiness _can _be found again. It's difficult to see it sometimes, but things aren't bad forever. And happiness isn't just something that happens to you. Sometimes you have to work to claw your way back to it. Things are never the same, but they can be good again. And they _will _be good again… you'll see."

I wasn't sure whether this was a lesson that I needed to help me cope with life after death. Or one that Jack needed. If I couldn't get back to him I didn't want him to fall apart. I gulped, wishing he could hear this and praying that he'd be alright.

* * *

**Hello my darlings, thanks for reading! Leave a review if you can. **

**Thanks to everyone who reviewed the last one, you guys make my day every time. **

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**PirateNinjaCJS- Haha, don't worry about it, we all forget things from time to time. I know, poor James :( Sorry it took me a while to update. Then again... when did you last update... HMMM? Just kidding, I know you're busy.**

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	17. Conversations With The Living

In spite of everything that had just happened, my goodbye with my father was still far more awkward than the one with my mother had been. Even after all of this, I was still closer to her and, although he was better than he had been, my father was still highly unused to showing affection. As a member of the King's Navy, it was difficult for him to break through that military, British boundary that had been set for him for so many years. Propriety creates difficult chains to break free from. As I gave him one last hug and watched the form of my father fade to nothing I hoped that wherever he and my mother were now, they were happy.

I stood alone in my now empty childhood home and took another look around. I didn't like how still it was, how quiet. Homes should always have some degree of noise in them. Especially big ones. I turned around to walk through the door, thinking that I would end up back on _The Pearl, _but I didn't. Instead I opened the door on Jack and Nyssa sitting together in the room with the Fountain of Youth. Jack was cradling Baby James in his arms and rocking him gently back and forth. James was asleep, but Jack carried on rocking him absent-mindedly. I smiled at them both. Jack looked down at his son and smiled. "He looks so much like her," he said, sounding happy. Tired, but happy. "They have the same eyes, don't you think?"

Nyssa nodded and smiled in the way that people do when they don't care what parents are saying about their children, but at the same time they don't want to be impolite by being blatantly disinterested. "Yes, he does," Nyssa agreed politely and Jack's smile widened, completely oblivious to Nyssa's boredom. I got the feeling that this wasn't the first time that Jack had tried to have this conversation with her and probably many others before her. "I wanted to call him Rum, y'know," he carried on. I rolled my eyes. That had caught Nyssa's attention and drawn a genuinely amused smile from her lips. Jack let out a soft laugh. "Belle wasn't keen on it, though, can't see why."

"Because it's a bloody ridiculous name, that's why," I muttered. Jack froze and Baby James stirred in his arms. Nyssa looked in my general direction.

"Belle?" Jack breathed.

"Jack…?" I answered cautiously, scarcely daring to hope that he could hear me. At the sound of my voice he shot to his feet, his eyes glancing wildly around the room. "Can… can you hear me?" I stepped forwards. So did he.

He nodded frantically. "Yes. Yes I can," he said, happily. "Where are you?"

"I'm here," I said.

There was a short silence, Jack continued looking around. "That's not very helpful, love," he grinned. "I can't see you, remember…" He looked to Nyssa. "Or can I? Can we go to that waterfall? Can I see her?"

Nyssa shook her head. "I don't think so. Isabelle's spirit is getting stronger in this world each time she comes, but I doubt she'll be strong enough for us to both see _and_ hear her quite yet." She turned to address me. "How many people have you met so far?"

"Only two," I replied. Nyssa nodded. I noticed a flicker of worry flash in her eyes, but I didn't ask her about it because Jack hadn't seen it. I didn't want to worry him or put anymore strain on him than need be. "My mother and father."

Jack looked surprised. "Is that so?" he asked tentatively.

He opened his mouth to say more, but Nyssa cut in, "I'm going to wake Issacio. He knows more about this than I do."

"Alright," Jack and I said in unison. We watched her leave and Jack sat down again. I sat down beside him. He looked concerned.

"That must have been difficult, love. Seeing your parents again. Are you alright, darling?"

"Yes," I smiled, moving to be closer to him and feeling more myself than I had in a long time. There are some people you meet that make you immediately relaxed and bring out the real you. These are the ones worth sticking with. These are the people like Jack. "It was quite nice actually… in a strange kind of way… to see them again."

Jack nodded. "As long as you're alright, love," he said. "I don't like the thought of you doing this alone."

"I'm not alone." I assured him. "James is with me."

"James? Jack's eyes widened in panic. "As in… your brother James?" He sat up straight, glancing around the room. It brought a wide smile to my lips that he couldn't see.

"Yes, my brother James," I clarified.

I saw one of his hands move to brush some dirt from his knee in an effort to appear less scruffy. It made my heart melt just a little to see how much he cared. "Is he…?" I could tell by the raised pitch of his voice that he was nervous. "With you… er… right now?"

"No," I tried my best not to laugh and settled down to sit beside him. Jack visibly relaxed. "He's been here before, though." I told him, secretly enjoying the way that he was immediately tense again.

"Oh really?" he said, trying to mask his nerves, but his pitch had risen again. "And… uh… what… what did he… what did you both see?"

I wished that he could see me smile, so that he could see exactly how happy he had made me. "You," I said quietly and Jack grew tense again. "Naming Baby James." He relaxed a little, but not completely. He looked down at our son, who was now fully awake and looking at his surroundings with the kind of happiness and wonder that only a baby can display. "He loved it. I loved it. You were right; it is _exactly_ what I wanted." Jack looked so relieved and so happy that I wanted nothing more than to kiss him. But, of course, I couldn't. "It's _much _better than 'Rum' would have been."

"Debatable," Jack laughed, but I could tell that he knew I was right. His laugh caused a quick flash of beautiful happiness in his eyes and on his face. And then they were gone. His happiness faltered and then died out completely. His voice dropped to a whisper, "Our girl, Belle, our little girl…"

He trailed off, but I knew exactly what he meant. "She's fine," I said quickly, desperate to shield him from any more unnecessary sadness. He'd already faced too much. "She's with me. She's fine… more than fine, she's beautiful. She's happy," I smiled at the thought of our daughter. "Her name's Rebecca. I can't wait 'til you meet her, Jack. Honestly she's gorgeous."

"Of course she is," Jack's beautiful smile was back on his face and he glanced at where he could hear my voice coming from. "She's _your_ daughter."

"Jack…" I sighed lovingly, feeling myself blush even in death. His words had made me squirm with embarrassment and I wanted to tell him off for it.

"Don't give me that look, love," he grinned and I stared at him in amazement. "I don't have to be able to see you to know what your face looks like right now… I will compliment my wife if I want to and not even you, Isabelle Sparrow, with all of your stubbornness, can stop me."

I grinned in spite of myself and in spite of his ridiculousness. "Isabelle Sparrow," I repeated, feeling my smile widen. "I don't think I'll ever not love hearing that."

"Me neither," Jack agreed. There was a moment's pause. He became suddenly serious. "I really do love you, you know that don't you?"

"Oh Jack…" I said again, feeling as if my heart was either about to break or fly straight out of my chest. It couldn't seem to make up its mind. "Hold out your hand," I told him. He did so, looking a little confused, being sure that Baby James stayed comfortable and supported on his lap. I placed my hand over his in the same way I had when we had been able to see each other. "Of course I know that," I told him. "I love you too, darling, so much." I paused, not wanting to ruin the moment, but also scared of upsetting him. "But if Rebecca and I don't make it back…"

"Don't say that," Jack said immediately, looking away from me.

"Jack," I said as gently as I could. "Listen to me, darling. Please." I saw him fighting the urge to argue with me and let him pause for a moment before I continued. "_If _we don't make it back, I need you to know that you'll be alright."

He looked a bit angry. "Of course I won't be bloody alright, Belle!" he snapped and his face flushed a little.

"You will be," I assured him. "You can do this without me."

"What? What do you mean I 'can do _this' _without you? Do you mean live? `Cause I certainly can't do that, Belle, I can't… I can't." His anger was dissolving in to pain.

"You _can_," I said, fiercely. "You have to." He was shaking his head. "Look at your son Jack. Look at _our _son. Look at him." Jack had been resisting me, but eventually he managed. "You're all he's got. He is what is important now. He needs you. He needs you _alive_." I knew that I was being hard on Jack, but all I could think about every time I saw him was the state he had been in when I had witnessed him on the verge of shooting himself. I needed to do everything I could to keep that pistol out of his hands. For James's sake as well as Jack's. Jack kissed his son on the head and closed his eyes for a second.

"I know," he whispered very, very quietly and then his eyes opened again. "I love him too, Izzy… it's just… If… if you don't… If you can't… If we never…" He was on the brink of something. I hoped that it was acceptance of the possibility that I would not make it back to him. He needed to at least give the idea a chance to be a reality if he was to have any hope of dealing with it. He blinked and it was gone. He stood up. "We're not talking about this anymore."

I sighed. "Jack…"

"Isabelle," Isaacio's voice was full of urgency as he opened the door. He glanced at Jack. "Is she still here?"

"Yes," I said, quickly. Isaacio looked relieved. "Yes I'm here."

Isaacio stepped further into the room. Nyssa followed. "Good," he breathed a sigh of relief. "Nyssa tells me that you're about to move on to the third person that you're supposed to meet? Is that right?"

I nodded and then remembered that he couldn't see me. "Yes," I said, glad that he also could not see me blushing at my own stupidity. He nodded.

"Good, that's really good," he said encouragingly. "Your presence in this world is really strong, all things considered. You're moving fast. How are you travelling in the Spiritual World?"

"I'm on the _Pearl_," I said. Jack's eyes widened immediately.

"What…?" he breathed. Isaacio frowned, looking at Jack's reaction.

"What's the _Pearl_?" he asked us.

"The _Black Pearl_," I said, just to clarify. "She's Jack's ship-"

"_Our _ship," Jack corrected me. I smiled.

"Alright then…" I said, looking at my husband in amazement. "Our ship," I corrected myself. "We used her to get here, but we had to leave her along the way. We were being followed… Blackbeard… George. I think… I think she must have been sunk. Because she's here with me."

A frown appeared on Jack's face. My heart sank at yet another blow for him, but Isaacio did not appear to be sharing in our dismay. "That's great," he said in an even more encouraging way than the last time. "That's really great. Most people making that journey have much slower transport. The fact that you have a _ship… _That's really good news."

Jack was smiling again and I relaxed. "She'll be safe on the _Pearl_," Jack said, confidently. "And she'll be fast. She's the fastest ship in the Caribbean," he said it proudly and I grinned. This had lifted his spirits. I was glad that Isaacio was being so positive about the situation. But then Isaacio became serious again.

"Now," he said, taking a step forward. "You moving so quickly is a good thing, but it does mean that the lines between worlds will become much more blurred much more quickly. Anyone who means you harm will pray on that. Never lose your grasp on reality or you'll be lost forever."

Jack was frowning again. "Who would try and hurt Belle?" he asked, I saw his jaw clench in anger.

Isaacio shrugged. "I don't know. Only Isabelle can find that out…" he paused for a moment, looking thoughtful. "This Blackbeard and George that you mentioned… the ones that were following you... Are either of them dead?"

"Both of them," Jack answered, his frown deepening.

"And would either of them have reason to harm you, Isabelle?"

"Yes," I said quietly, fearing the very thought of having to see either of them again. "George is the one who brought all the Redcoats here, the one that Jack killed after he tried to kill our son."

Isaacio nodded to show that he understood. "Well that sounds as if his resentment is built more towards Jack than you, but you should be very, _very _wary of him should you meet him."

"Don't worry, I'll be more than just wary," I said through gritted teeth.

"And what of Blackbeard?" Isaacio asked.

"He's the one who shot me," I replied and Isaacio's eyes widened.

"Ah, yes," he said. "Of course. In that case you will _definitely _meet him on your journey… that much I am sure of."

I gulped and there was a silence.

"You can fight them, Izzy," Jack assured me. "I know you can."

"Yeah," I agreed, trying my best not to let my nerves show. "George has never been great at handling a sword. But that's just the King's Navy for you."

Jack smiled, appreciating my joke. Isaacio, of course, did not understand and carried on in his serious way. "Isabelle, I doubt that the way you will have to fight them will be the way in which you are used to."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"I doubt there will be any combat," he said. "It is more likely to be a battle of enchantment and entrapment, which you will have to fight your way out of or you will die here and be trapped there forever."

Jack sighed, looking extremely frustrated. "Why can't she just run the buggers through with a sword like they deserve?"

"Because Jack," Isaccio said patiently. "You can't kill someone that's already dead." When he put it that way, it made complete sense. "You need to find your own way out of their traps. Remember what is real and hold onto it. That's the best advice I can give you."

"Thank you," I said and I began to feel the initial stages of being pulled back to the Land of the Dead. I fought it as much as I could, even though I knew that my efforts were futile.

"Your situation is a rare one," Isaacio said, moving back towards the door. "We only know of one person who has been through it before. If you'd like to follow me…" He beckoned us over. Jack started to walk towards him.

"I don't think I can," I said apologetically, as the pull grew stronger. Jack's footsteps stopped. "I think I have to go now."

"No!" Jack said loudly.

Isaacio looked more understanding. He nodded. "Of course," he said. "Next time then. We'll be looking out for you. Be very wary, Isabelle. Be careful."

"I will," I promised. "Thank you."

"Belle…" Jack said helplessly, trailing off.

"I love you," I said and he didn't look quite so helpless anymore. "I'll see you soon."

"Yeah," he smiled my choice of words and I was glad that I hadn't said 'goodbye'. "See you soon, love."

And then I was gone.

* * *

I could feel the ship rocking beneath me and I could hear the sounds of the sea. I could smell the salt in the air. A gentle breeze touched my face. "James!" I called, thinking that I was back on the _Pearl. _I stepped forwards, feeling the ship pitch beneath me. That was when it struck me. The last time that I had been on the _Pearl _she had been sailing on dead waters. Still ones. She shouldn't be rocking or pitching at all. I looked up. The sails above my head were full of a wind that would never have been seen on the Dead Sea which the _Pearl _had been sailing on, but that wasn't all that was wrong with them. These sails were white.

This was not the _Pearl. _

Where was I?

"James!" I called again, tentatively.

"James!" I heard another voice call out sharply and I turned to see my father glaring down at my brother, who couldn't have been much older than ten. "I have told you before about running on my ship."

Young James hung his head. "I'm sorry, father," he said. "I thought I saw a pirate ship."

"You are here to learn," our father said sternly. "Not to interfere."

"Sorry father," James said again. There was a moment of silence. "What's the name of the pirate we're after, father?"

"Teague," my father replied, looking out to the horizon. Young James copied him. "Captain Edward Teague."

I gasped. "What's happening?" I said aloud.

"I do believe," I turned to find the current James Norrington standing behind me. "That it is _my _turn to tell you a tale."

* * *

**Thanks for reading **** :) Review if you can **

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**PirateNinjaCJS- Haha yes, Uni makes it difficult. That's why updates are so slow. That and also I have three stories to update :/ I'm sure Jack would welcome your cuddles very much. Let's send him some **

**AdaYuki- Thank you! So glad you loved it **** And sorry it takes me so long to get new ones up! Thanks for the review.**

**GoTeamSkipper- I've always felt for James. He's such a misunderstood villain in the PotC series. I have a lot of love for James (in case you hadn't noticed). Thanks for reviewing!**

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**Twins-aspecialconnection- Aww, yes they did **** suffer a terrible loss :( Jack does need her. They need each other, really. Thank you, I'm glad you're enjoying the story.**

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	18. A Brother's Tale

"James," I gasped and ran towards him. He was holding a wicker moses basket, which I could only assume contained Rebecca, in his hands. His eyes widened in surprise as kept running at him, showing no signs of stopping. He set the moses basket down on the ground. I saw his face split in to a huge grin before I threw my arms around him and squeezed him to me as tightly as I could. I heard him laugh and felt it shake his body. He hugged me so fiercely that he actually lifted me off my feet. I felt like I was a tiny little girl again, running into the arms of my big brother. There was a brief moment when I don't think either of us would have been surprised if he'd swung me up to sit on his shoulders. I kissed him on the cheek and then continued to hug him with ridiculous strength.

"Hey," he said gently, still laughing at me. "Hey, what's this for?"

I pulled back slightly and grabbed his cheeks so roughly that he winced. "James…" I said again as we grinned at each other. "Just… you are… I mean… Just… thank you. I love you."

"I love you too," he was still laughing and bewildered, as I kissed him on the cheek again. I couldn't find the words I wanted to say, so I just looked at him. His smile told me that he understood. I stooped to pick up the moses basket, glancing down at my daughter. She was asleep and hardly even stirred. Her peaceful, happy face made my smile widen. For a moment I genuinely didn't care where I was or what was happening to me. I was just too happy and surrounded by love to worry about anything. But then I saw Rebecca's eyes- her father's eyes and I was jolted straight back down to earth again. I had to keep going. I couldn't lose my grip on what was real and where I was going.

I looked up at my brother and asked, "Where are we?"

"Father's ship," James said, looking around him. He didn't look particularly happy about us being here. The deck around us was bustling in the way that ships do, but it wasn't the same as being on the _Pearl. _On the _Pearl_, there was much more chatter amongst the crew and the atmosphere was far more relaxed. It was a happier place to be. Everything on my father's ship was far more regimented and structured. While this may have been more efficient, it didn't seem to be as fun as life on the _Pearl. _Things were being done because they'd been ordered to. Generally speaking, things on the _Pearl _were done because they needed to be. Jack rarely had to give specific orders or jobs to specific people. The crew could work out of an almost instinctual behaviour. They moved to run the ship as if they were a part of her, rather than my father and his men who did it out of a sense of duty. The _Pearl_'s crew were there by choice and because they loved it, not because they had been told what ship to be on. I saw a young Joshamee Gibbs and I felt instantly more at home. Gibbs seemed to be a common link between my two worlds- pirate and otherwise. It was difficult at times to remember that Gibbs had served in the Navy alongside my father and brother, when I was so used to seeing him as my husband's First Mate. He walked past where James, Rebecca and I were standing. He didn't really look happy, but maybe that was just because he seemed so out of place to me.

James had started to walk to where his younger self was standing looking out to sea with our father. I followed him, carrying Rebecca. There was a silence as James looked at the scene in front of him, "Do you… do you know why we're here?" I asked tentatively. James nodded.

"Yes," he sighed. "This is the very first journey Father ever took me on. We were after a certain Captain Teague. Teague's actually, er…"

"Jack's dad," I finished for him. He looked surprised. "Yes, I know."

"That's right," he said quietly. "You've met him then?"

"Yes," I said, feeling instantly defensive of my father-in-law. "He's a good man."

"Yes. He is," to my surprise, James agreed. I looked at him and he smiled, but it was a sad kind of smile.

Young James looked up at his father, who wasn't paying him any attention. "I wish Izzy was here," he said. My eyes widened in surprise. I couldn't believe James Norrington would _ever _have said such a thing. He'd been so very against it all my life. "She'd like the sea." Our father looked sharply down at him.

"James!" he scolded. "Do you really think that a ship of the King's Navy, which is in the midst of hunting for a _pirate, _is a suitable environment for your little sister?"

James shook his head and looked down, "No, Father."

"Do you think she'd be _safe _here?"

James shook his head again, "No, Father."

"Do you see any other women aboard this ship?"

James didn't even look up from where he was staring at his feet. "No, Father."

"No," our father repeated. "That's right. Women should only be on ships if it is absolutely necessary and along a safe passage. I would never dream of letting your mother or your sister set foot on a ship unless it was because we were moving somewhere else. They would certainly not be accompanying us here. They would be far too frightened and weak to deal with this sort of thing. This is a man's place and they are who we are protecting. It is our women at home we must keep safe, by keeping the seas safe." He paused. "You _do _want your sister safe, don't you, James?"

James looked up then. "Yes!" he said. "Yes of course, Father!"

"Good," our father looked satisfied.

"I only meant," James continued. "That I miss her and I think Izzy would like the s-"

"Isabelle," our father snapped. "Her name is Isabelle, please say it properly, James."

James stopped talking and looked away again. I could see that his young face had crumpled into a frown. As our father walked away from him and towards the helm, I heard James mutter, "I like 'Izzy'."

Still looking sulky, he scurried off after our father. We followed them both. I glanced up at my brother's current form. "Wishing to see me on a ship, James? You changed your tune," I remarked. He grinned and I smiled back.

"I did," he admitted. "But I hope that this tale will help me explain myself… even if only a little."

He said nothing else. Intrigued, I looked back at what was happening at the helm. "Dad…" James said quietly. Our Father looked at him.

"Yes?"

"I'm scared," he admitted. "Of the pirates."

Or father stooped down and put a comforting hand on his son's shoulders. "Don't be scared," he said. "You need to be brave, son. There are men out there who are savages, and they want to destroy your entire way of life. They are uncivilized, heathen, thieving, filthy pirates, and when I have gone to a final rest, it is you who will carry on the banner of civility and order, and help the Crown and our allies in the East India Trading Company eradicate their slime from the Seven Seas."

Young James's eyes were wide; he didn't look like he felt any better about the situation. There was a mixture of fear and awe in his eyes that I recognised as a feeling that I had felt before myself. I had felt it when I was his age, possibly even younger, when James himself had told me tales of pirates- the demons of the sea. They were the embodiment of pure evil, determined to wipe everything that was good from the world. Inhuman, subhuman _monsters _that would destroy everything that was dear to us. Everything that was good. I remember fearing them because they acted without reason in such violent ways that they couldn't possibly be anything other than savage and barbaric. I was in awe of how our Navy could fight them and I was fearful that maybe pirates were _too _evil, had _too _many demonic powers for us to ever overthrow them. Stories of killing pirates and hangings were never shocking. It's much easier to be okay with treating something or someone in an inhumane way, if they have been characterised to be less than human. It somehow justifies what the Navy did to them… even makes it seem noble. With all the stories we are fed it is difficult to remember that pirates are human too. I think, deep down, it is a truth that most people knew. That's why hangings never quite sat right with me. I thought when I saw my first hanging that I would feel more of a sense of justice than I did. The hanging hadn't unfolded in the way I had imagined. I had expected that when they dragged him from his cell in chains he would be fighting and roaring and cursing like some kind of demonic bear. I thought his eyes might glow red with the fires of Hell. I thought that his evil soul would be etched permanently on to his features. None of those things were true. He was just a man. A living, breathing, human man. He hadn't roared or cursed or even spoken. He had walked to the gallows in a calm and collected manner. And when he had eventually looked up when the executioner put a noose around his neck, they had been the colour of the calmest seas. And so full of fear and sadness. His hands had shook. When the leaver was pulled I looked away, wondering how anyone could watch and being surprised by my own emotions at what I was seeing. I knew that he was supposed to be answering for his crimes, but it didn't feel like justice. The life at the end of that rope is still a human one and what right do we have to take it?

"Admiral!" Gibbs shouted to my father from the deck below. He looked worried and a little bit scared. "Starboard! We're here. It's the _Misty Lady._"

My father sprang in to action and his crew followed. I watched young James as he took in what was going on. For the first time that day I saw him start to enjoy himself. He was already getting a taste for military life. His eyes were shining. It was nice to see him looking moderately happy for a change. He took a great interest in what everyone was doing, often scampering away from my father to quiz people on the ship, their jobs and how everything worked. I watched him with a smile and then looked at adult James. He saw my smile. "What?" he frowned.

"Nothing..." I shrugged. "It's just nice to see you smile for a change."

He nodded as he watched his former self stalk Gibbs around the ship. He laughed. "I was an annoying little thing," he commented.

"_Was_?" I raised an eyebrow. "What makes you think you've changed?"

He rolled his eyes, but I could tell he was amused. There was a pause. "I've missed you," he said quietly. "I'm sorry things were so bad towards the end." I linked my arm with his and smiled.

"I've missed you too, James," I said. "And you have nothing to be sorry for." He smiled and I let the silence settle for a moment, looking up to where the pirate ship was that this one was pursuing. "_The Misty Lady, _huh?" I said. "Is Teague on that ship?"

"Yes," James nodded.

I hesitated, "Is… Is Jack?"

He took a deep breath and I had my answer before he said it, "Yes. He is."

I stepped forwards then, right to the railing and watched the _Misty Lady _grow closer. It wasn't long until the canon fire from both ships started. There wasn't as much resistance from the pirate ship as I had thought there would be. Their canon fire seemed to stop short and I didn't know why. They crew around us however, seemed to expect it. They managed to pull up alongside the _Misty Lady _with no trouble at all. When I looked over the deck was empty, aside from the figure of a boy only a few years older than James. It was our cousin, Fitzwilliam, looking smug. What was _he _doing on a pirate ship? He crossed the gap between the two ships and came to stand beside my father as his crew lined up. "Good work, Fitz," my father sounded proud. I saw young James looking a little bit jealous. "You lead us here well. Where are they?"

"In the brig," he answered, his smug smile widening. My father nodded.

"Good," he turned to his men. "Go and get them."

A line of them marched over to the _Misty Lady _and we watched them disappear down into depths of the ship. A few minutes later they returned. I strained to see the figures they were leading forwards in chains- the figures of a boy and man. I recognised them both immediately. Teague was younger and therefore looked even more like Jack than he had when I had known him. _Does now, _I corrected myself on my use of past tense. _I'm not dead yet. _When I saw young Jack I smiled. I couldn't help it. His bandana was so familiar and recognisably _his, _but his hair was much shorter and scruffier, sticking out the sides of it. His shirt was overly big on him, hanging off his thin frame. He was a few years older than James, probably around thirteen and in that awkward stage in life where people often grow faster than their bodies can handle and they haven't quite filled out yet. It was ridiculously surreal to see him. It was even more surreal than it had been to see the younger versions of my parents and brother; at least I had seen family portraits to prepare me for that. Seeing Jack in such an early stage in his life was bizarre. Knowing everything I knew about him, all the hardships that he would face in the near future that would make him the man I loved, I wanted to step in and intervene. I wanted to take him somewhere safe and shield him from everything that was coming, warn him about losing the _Pearl_, but I couldn't. Obviously. And maybe that was for the best. These strange and random chain of events, as bizarre and surreal as it might be for me to witness them, were vital parts leading up to the moment we'd met and where we were now. And there was nothing I would change about that.

"Captain Edward Teague," my father said with great authority. The rest of Teague's crew were brought up to join their Captain. I saw my brother's eyes shining with admiration and respect for his father. He was proud of him for what he was doing. I had to remind myself that he didn't know any better. "You, your son and your crew are hereby under the jurisdiction of the King's Navy and will be brought to Port Royal to be hanged for the crimes you have been charged with and run away from." Neither Teague nor Jack said a word. Jack was looking at Fitz as if he would like nothing more than to rip his head clean off his shoulders. Fitz was smiling back at him. I could almost see Jack's blood bubbling and boiling in his veins as they were lead away. Teague looked far more calm and collected. I assumed that he had a plan of some kind. I couldn't really imagine Teague looking scared about anything. I was used to seeing him with an air of relaxed authority. He didn't have to raise his voice to demand respect. He was just one of those people that commanded it anyway. Despite him being in chains and on his way to the brig, I think many of my father's men were incredibly wary of him.

James watched them with a great deal of fear in his eyes, as I heard my father continuing to praise Fitz. Not hearing any of it, James tugged on his father's sleeve to get his attention. Slightly annoyed, my father looked down. "What is it, son?" he asked.

"One of them's a boy," he said.

My father nodded, looking back out to sea. "There's corruption in youth too," he said. "It's a good job we got him early before he could commit any _serious _atrocities. He won't be able to destroy anything from the end of the noose."

James looked afraid. "I'm a boy too," he said quietly.

"But you are not corrupt," he looked back down at his son. "Are you?" James shook his head furiously, fear still burning in his eyes. "Good," my father said before walking away.

Everything around us sped up and movements on the deck became blurs around us. The light began to fade rapidly from the sky. It stopped when it became dark and everything went back to normal. For a moment nothing happened. I looked at James, wondering if this jump in time had been a mistake. "What's going on?" I asked, quietly.

"Just wait," he whispered. "They'll be here any moment."

He squinted into the darkness and became aware of the quiet sound of hushed footsteps on their way up to where James and I stood. Gibbs was the first to emerge. I heard James's sharp intake of breath. "Of course," he muttered to himself.

I was completely confused for a moment until I saw Teague emerge just a few steps behind Gibbs. Jack followed shortly after and then came the rest of Teague's crew. Teague, Jack and Gibbs all stood to one side as Teague's crew made their way back to _The Misty Lady_, who was still moored alongside my father's ship. Teague laid a hand on Gibbs's shoulders. "I can't thank you enough, Gibbs," he said. "You're a good man."

Gibbs was looking uncomfortable. "Aye," he nodded. "You're a good friend to me, Teague. Now away with the lot o' you before somebody sees."

Teague smiled. "Sure I can't convince you to come with us? We have rum…" he offered.

"No," Gibbs shook his head. "The pirate's life isn't one for me."

He looked as if he knew it was wrong even as he said it, but Gibbs is a man driven by fear. Whether it is fear of folklore or fear of punishment, there's no decision he makes without it. This must have been a big thing for him to do. He left them as soon as he could, just in case anyone saw him. He had only been gone for a minute or two when I saw Jack's eyes flash and he pulled out his sword. I whipped around to see Fitzwilliam had arrived on deck. He saw that he'd been spotted. "Prisoner's escaping!" he shouted as loudly as he could. "Prisoner's escaping."

"Shut up!" Jack shouted as Fitz drew his own sword to defend himself. Before Teague could do anything to stop the fight that was starting, my father burst out of his Cabin, brandishing his sword. Some of Teague's crew hurried back to help their Captain, but then my father's Redcoats started to arrive on deck and the fight spread out over both ships. It happened so quickly that I hardly had any time to take any of it in. My eyes were suddenly drawn to the small figure of James, who had emerged on deck looking completely terrified.

"This was the first battle I ever saw," James told me, seeing what I was looking at. "It was nothing like I expected it to be. I had thought it would be much cleaner, much easier. But I was terrified."

I gulped as one of Teague's men was slaughtered right in front of my brother's younger self. "I'm not surprised," I said quietly. "You're so young."

James's wide and wild eyes were glancing desperately around for his father. He saw him fighting Teague and tried to run to his aid. I could see that all he wanted to do was to protect and help his father. Just as he reached them, Teague knocked our father to the ground. From my experience and knowledge, I could tell that this was something he could easily enough recover from, but to young James… it was terrifying. He backed away from Teague, not looking where he was going. I saw the gap in the railing behind him, one that had been blasted there during the fight with _The Misty Lady _that day. He didn't see it and his fear drove him backwards. Helpless, I watched him fall.

"Dad!" he screamed just before he hit the water. Our father was back on his feet. He heard his son scream, but did nothing.

Teague lowered his sword.

* * *

**Thanks for reading, leave a review if you can :)**

**PirateNinjaCJS: YAAAY for them talking :) Good times :') Glad you're shipping for them is as strong as ever. Yeah, I got it. I'll reply soon :)**

**thEcrEAtOr23: Ok, good :) Hope you liked James's so far. **

**Eponine Sparrow: YES. GO AND HUG JAMES. HE NEEDS IT.**

**AdaYuki: Here you go :) sorry for the wait.**

**GoTeamSkipper: Thank you :) I love Jack and Baby James too. I always thought he'd be an unexpectedly good dad. Mmmhhhmm... George and Blackbeard will be causing some havoc, but you'll just have to wait for that. ;) **

**kedatz17: Thank you so much :) that means a lot**

**Sookdeo: Well... here's the first part of James's tale. I hope you did like it :)**

**LOVE YOU ALL. **


	19. A Brother's Lesson

I watched as my father swung his sword towards Teague, who jumped sharply out of the way and sheathed his own sword as swiftly as he could. Before my father could take another swing, Teague had run to the side of the ship and in one quick move he had leaped over the side that James had fallen over. I heard him splash into the water and I ran to take a look. I could still see the ripple and the splash that Teague had made as he'd jumped in to save my brother. There was a moment of tense silence where nothing happened and neither of them could be seen. I watched the water settle and even though the fully-grown version of James was standing beside me, I still worried about the fate of my brother and I couldn't yet place why.

A few agonising moments passed. My father slowly moved closer to the railing and looked down. Nothing happened. Then I saw the dark shape of the top of Teague's head grow beneath the waves. He broke the surface and I let out a deep breath that I didn't know I'd been holding in. He was clutching James's small body in his arms. He looked limp. Teague lifted him over his shoulder as he swam back to my father's boat. As he struggled to lift him back on deck I saw my father finally leap into action and help drag his son's lifeless body up the side of the boat. As he was laid out on the deck I heard him start to cough and splutter. I saw the water that had been trapped in his lungs hit the deck and his eyes rolled back in his head. Teague moved to help support James's back and get him breathing normally again, but our father wouldn't let him. He held out his hand and with a face that had flushed red with anger shouted, "**Do not touch my son!**"

I watched Teague raise his hands in surrender to my father's orders and step back. He moved in that calm and quiet way that I was accustomed to. Choosing, largely, to be peaceful rather than violent and to express his anger or disagreement with something through his words, or in this case his facial expression, rather than his fists. While he respected a father's wish by taking that step back, he did not move from the immediate radius of the boy he'd just saved. He didn't turn and run from my father or even draw his sword again. I saw that his eyes were alert and fully trained on James in case he needed to step in again. I vowed then and there to hug Teague the next time I saw him, whether he wanted me to or not. I had always known him to be a man full of a quiet kind of gentle compassion, but I didn't know that it ran as deep as caring for the life of the child of a man that was trying to kill him. My father turned to face Teague once again. He still looked so angry, when he should have been grateful. More than that, he should have been looking after his son, who was still choking on the deck. It made me feel physically sick to watch as James's face reddened and his wide, terrified eyes looked at his father for help. His little body shook every time he coughed.

Teague drew his sword with only enough time to block my father's next blow. His eyes darted from James to my father and back again as the fight continued. James struggled for breath on the deck of his own father's ship, amidst a battle that continued to rage on. "Your son needs you, Admiral," Teague said, his voice was quiet but stern. "Tend to him and let us go to leave you in peace."

"I'll tend to him," my father snarled, "when you are dead."

I saw Teague's eyes roll slightly and then in a few swift moves he managed to knock my father to the ground again. This time, he pinned him there with his boot. James's breathing was becoming slightly more even, but it still sounded painful and I could tell he was panicking. Now he feared for our father's life as well as his own. Around them, the fight was starting to draw to a close as my father's men had become distracted by what was happening to their Admiral and his son, allowing many of Teague's crew to slip away back to their own ship. I saw young Jack appear at his father's side. "Dad," he said. "C'mon, what are you doing?"

"Get me his sword, son," Teague instructed, not taking his eyes off where he had my father pinned to the deck. Jack moved to pick up the sword that had been knocked from my father's hand. He gave it to his father, who raised it and drove it deep into my father's coat and the wooden deck, fixing him there.

"What are you doing, dad?" Jack frowned. "Why don't you kill 'im?"

"Not in front of his son," Teague said quietly. There was a moment of silence and then Jack could hold his tongue no longer.

"Why not?" he asked. "What's he ever done? Why'd you save him?"

"He's not done anything," Teague said. "Which is the point. Children should not suffer for the sins of their fathers." There was a silence as he made sure my father was firmly fixed in position and then he leant down to speak to him one last time. "Admiral. Your son needs you."

With that Teague and Jack made a swift exit from my father's ship as he tried furiously to free himself from his own sword before they could get away. One of his men, who was making his way back to the Navy ship from Teague's, ran to assist him. He pulled the sword out of my father's coat and gave it to him, saluting as he did so. My father scrambled to his feet and looked at the situation to see in which way it could be salvaged, but the fight had quickly turned sour for the Navy. With their Captain on board the _Misty Lady, _most of the crew had managed to overpower their opponents and flee to their own ship. James raised himself up on shaky hands. "Father," he called, his voice was also shaky. He sounded weak. "Father!"

I saw a vein in my father's neck pulsate with anger, he turned and shouted to his men, "Get him out of here! Get him out of my sight!"

A few Redcoats ran over and picked my brother up. He was carried away as my father preoccupied himself with giving the orders to fire on Teague's ship, which was starting to make an escape. Knowing that Jack and his father survived this and feeling disgusted by my own father, I turned away and went to follow young James. I felt close to tears as I found him alone, crying, in our father's quarters. I sat on the end of the bed that he had tucked himself into and almost cried along with him. "You poor thing," I said quietly, not quite sure which version of my brother I was talking to. Both of them, probably, but obviously the elder was the only one that can hear me.

"It's okay," he said automatically, but I could see that it wasn't. I took his hand.

The door opened and our father entered. James sat up in his bed, trying his very best not to show that he had been crying and appear strong in front of his father. There was a moment of tense silence. "Father," James said, when it became clear that he was not going to speak to him. "Father, why did you try to kill him again?"

"Because," our father said tersely, "he is a pirate."

"But… but…" James said. "But he saved my life."

"He is a wicked man, James," our father said. "And wicked men deserve a wicked death."

"But… saving me wasn't wicked."

James looked confused. Our father sighed. It sounded angry. "One good deed is not enough to redeem a man of a lifetime of wickedness," he snapped. I'd heard that before. "Which is what that man is- he's wicked, James. He is a _pirate_. And to think, my own son had to be saved by the likes of him. Do you have any idea of the shame you have brought upon this family?"

I saw that James was close to crying again. "Father…" he said plaintively.

"A _pirate!_" our father repeated, sounding disgusted. "A bloody pirate! How are you supposed to succeed if you have to be recused by a _pirate?! _How are you supposed to follow in my footsteps if the only reason that you are still alive is due to scum like him?! It makes you as good as scum, yourself… my own son! How are you supposed to look after your sister if you can't look after yourself without the help of criminals?"

James's tears had started falling again. "It was an accident!" he protested. "I didn't mean it… I.." I saw our father flush red with anger again as he grabbed a hold of James's shoulders and shook him.

"You have humiliated me tonight, James!" he shouted. "You have brought us nothing but shame and disappointment. If things don't start changing, son, you will have no family to bring any more shame upon. I _will not_ have such a weak son. It would have been better if you had _**died**_ than been rescued by that man. Then at least you would have died a noble an admirable death, rather than brought this humiliation on us. Do you understand? **Do you?!"**

James nodded furiously, too scared to continue crying, "I'm sorry…" he stammered. "I'm sorry."

Our father let go of him and said nothing else as he left the room. James sat up and stared at the door, as if waiting for him to come back. When he didn't James sank back down into his pillow and started to cry again, closing his eyes this time in an effort to stop himself. He became frustrated. He screamed in anger at himself and struck out at the pillow underneath him several times before finally burying his face in it. "Stop it," I heard his muffled mutters to himself. "Stop it. Stop it. Stop it. Be strong. Don't be weak. Don't be weak."

After a few moments James fell silent, having finally cried himself to sleep.

I looked up at the older version of my brother and found that I, too, had been crying. James's eyes were bright with unshed tears. He'd never allowed himself to cry in the time that I'd known him. And now I knew why. "My lesson to you is more of an apology, Izzy. I just wanted you to know why I did the things I did. It took me a long time to realise that duty lies not first with King and country, but primarily to your family and the people you love. It's a much better way to live. Much happier. He looked at me and the corners of his eyes crinkled in a smile. "Then again, you've always known that. This wasn't really a lesson you needed. It was one I did."

"Oh, James," I said softly, rising to my feet.

His smile faded. "I'm sorry for everything I did, Isabelle," he sounded so sincere and heartfelt.

"You don't need to apologise," I told him. "I understand now," I said soothingly. "I understand."

"Everything I did," he said, "I did because I wanted to protect you, the family. I didn't want to bring any more shame to any of you. I wanted you to be safe. Especially after mother and father died. It was just me and I… I just didn't want to let you down. Again."

"James," I said, moving towards him. He said nothing and looked away from me. I took a hold of his shoulders in a much more gentle way than our father had done. "You've never let me down," I said fiercely, drawing him into a hug. "Not once."

He wrapped his arms around me and I felt myself well up again. "Thank you," he said quietly and I realised that he was crying a little.

"I'm sorry for when I was difficult, James," I said, feeling guilty for all the grief I had given him over the years. All the times we'd fought. "It can't have been easy on you without mother and father."

"You made it easier, actually, even when you were difficult. I had someone to work _for_." There was a slight pause. "And it turned out you were right… in the end."

I laughed through my tears. "Did you just admit that you were wrong about something, James?"

"No," he said and although I couldn't see him, I could tell he'd started to smile. "I'm just saying that you were right and I… I was less right." I laughed and there was a moment of silence. "I love you," he said quietly. I hugged him a little closer.

"I love you too," I told him and everything around me began to fade- twisting out of existence. Last to go was James. I felt him becoming less solid in my arms and I panicked. "James!" I called as he slipped away. "James!"

"It's alright, Izzy," I heard his voice, but it was faint. "I'll see you soon."

I was left standing alone among a twisting blur of colour and movement. It made me feel quite sick. Then, slowly, all the shapes began to form new things. First the stone walls and floor of a room. And then all the furnishings came together- a rug, a desk, a chair, tapestries on the walls and curtains on the windows. It was dark, probably night-time. For a moment everything around me was silent. I assumed that I was in Atlantis again, but how could I be sure? How could I know? This could just as easily be someone else's memory. I didn't recognise the room I was in, but that didn't mean I was necessarily in Atlantis. It didn't mean I wasn't either. Then a loud snore rumbled from somewhere behind me and I smiled.

Jack.

I turned around to see him lying, fast asleep, in a bed behind me. It was nice to see him looking so peaceful for a change. I walked over and sat down beside him. After a moment I lay down and turned my head on the pillow to look at him. In his sleep, he rolled over to face me. I studied his face in silence. I didn't want to wake him. He deserved this rest; more than that he _needed_ it. Despite him being deep in sleep, he still looked pale and I could see visible bags under his eyes. His mouth hung slightly open. I smiled and reached out a hand, almost touching his cheek, but I stopped myself. If I remembered correctly everything in this world was a few degrees hotter than I was. Trying to hold his hand before had made me feel as if my skin was almost on fire. So, surely for him it would be ice-cold. And that would wake him. I lowered my hand again and rolled over to stare at the ceiling.

With Jack sleeping, I had time to reflect on everything I had seen and learnt. Pulling out the various skeletons in my family closet had been difficult, surprisingly so. My mother's lost love, my parent's lost child and my brother's lost childhood were all various storms that had whipped themselves up into a hurricane inside me. I had never met my mother's James, but I felt their pain over an impossible love story. I had resented my brother for so long because of the choices he'd made, but I'd never stopped to think of the reasons behind them. I'd never even known of his pain. And my parent's lost child was a sibling that I would never know. In all of this mess I felt lost and out of place. There was nothing I could do to help my mother or the pain she had felt. I hadn't been there to help her, my father and James through losing their middle child. I hadn't even existed then and they'd hidden it from me. James had hidden his conflict with our father too. I knew that they had been doing it to protect and shield me, but I couldn't help but feel a bit left out of the family loop. I had always been the youngest, always felt overly protected and I was sick of it. I would have preferred it if they had told me how they were feeling and what they had been through when they were still alive, so that I could try and help them. Maybe I couldn't. Maybe that was why they never told me. I felt useless.

And then the guilt came crashing down on me.

Was it selfish of me to feel left out? How could I lie here and complain that they hadn't told me anything when they had all been through so much? How could I even compare to that?

I just wanted to help them.

The hurricane inside me sped up and I felt sick. More than that, I felt like I was falling and spinning out of control. I was lost. Everything I had thought I had known about my family had been pulled out from under my feet. I needed somewhere solid to land. I needed… I needed…

Another snore made me turn my head towards Jack and in that moment I was still again.

I just looked at him, tracing his face with my eyes instead of my fingers. I lay and listened to him breathing. In that moment, it didn't matter that he wasn't awake. It didn't matter that we couldn't speak, of that I couldn't see his eyes. I didn't even matter that he didn't know I was there. All that mattered was that we were together. In that moment, I was calm.

Just seeing him changed my mood. I felt myself relax after the intensity of my brother's story. I didn't care about what danger Blackbeard and George might have in store for me. I felt at peace with what had been and what was to come. Just looking at him I felt like I was home. I smiled, "I love you, Jack," I said quietly.

In his sleep, he smiled back. His eyes flickered open and he looked at me. "Mornin'," he yawned. "LoveyouBelle," he murmured so sleepily that all of his words ran together. I smiled as he closed his eyes again. Then I saw the look of grogginess freeze and he frowned. I'd seen that look before. It's the look he gets when he's just realised something. His eyes snapped open. "Belle?"

He smiled at me and the hurricane died down.

* * *

**Hey! Sorry this took a while. I've simultaneously had my end of first year Uni exams and some difficult stuff to deal with in my home life, but thank you all so much for reading. It really means a lot. I love you guys :) Review if you can.**

Review Replies:

**GoTeamSkipper- Hahaha, I'm sorry! I might just start calling you Mrs Norrington, if that's how you're feeling about him ;) I wish we'd seen a Young Jack in the movie, although I'm not sure my emotions could have handled it. Imagine that mini-bandana! **

**EponineSparrow- Aww good! I'm sure James is grateful for those hugs :)**

**PirateNinjaCJS- Thank you! I've always loved James a wee bit. Also, I got your mail, I'll reply in the morning, love :)**

**Sookdeo- Haha, yes. Duty comes first. Poor, scrawny little James :P**

**GrimReaper'sDaughter- Yes, I am cruel. I won't appologise for that because it amuses me. Thank you for taking the time to read and review :)**

**kedatz17- Thank you :) I bet Jack really was cute when he was little. And James too!**

**Guest- My, my you are persistent! Your constant reviews made me laugh, so thank you. And thanks for being so invested in this story and the lovely things you said about the characters and plot. Please don't cry. I'm sorry I took so long.**


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